


From Now On

by nautical_2



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Breakup AU, M/M, Mentions of a Panic Attack, gratuitous use of oh sehun jokes, how do human beings function, if i went to high school with you dont read this, petty high school drama, unfilled plot holes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-27
Updated: 2018-08-27
Packaged: 2019-07-03 03:17:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 26,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15810219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nautical_2/pseuds/nautical_2
Summary: In which Oh Sehun wonders if five years is long enough to fix what was irreversibly broken(working titles: Leave Me Alone I Want Closure & I Am In Pain)





	From Now On

**Author's Note:**

> Dear you,
> 
> I hope you're living well.

It’s four years later when he sees him again, standing behind the counter with a silly apron over his hips and still looking unfairly good. It’s Monday. Sehun shouldn’t have to deal with shit like this on a Monday, when he’s half awake and already stressed.

“Oh.” He says, startled, looking up, and Sehun is inclined to agree. What else is there to be said? 

“Hello.” Sehun replies slowly, tasting the words on his mouth before he sets them free. He feels oddly weightless in this moment, as though any of this means nothing to him when in reality all of it might just mean everything. 

Huang Zitao smiles the kittenish smile he always does, the corners of his mouth turning up slightly. “Hi.” Sehun could almost believe that he is happy to see him here, even after all these years.

Sehun stares for another moment, taking in the bags under his eyes and the smoothness of his hands. Part of him wants to tell Tao to get more sleep, ask him what moisturizer he uses, but he knows that Tao has always had those terribly dark eyes, and, based on the scent emanating from his hands when he moves them, the cream is still the same one from all those years ago. 

So he orders, instead, for himself and his boss and his fellow intern because such is the life of a part time student, part time office worker. He pays, handing the Junmyeon’s company card to Tao, and does his best to make sure that their fingers don’t touch in the process. 

Neither of them say anything more during this time, for which Sehun is grateful. The shop is nearly empty, with one sole customer sitting quietly in the corner of the room and no one else behind the counter, and the silence is nearly unbearable. It would be– unbearable, that is, if it weren’t for the customer tapping his feet to the music in his headphones and the sounds of people arguing behind the Employees Only door.

“It’s been a while.” Tao says, when he finishes making the drinks. This time, when Sehun takes the cup holder from him, he notes that Tao’s hands are unfairly soft and warm despite the blisteringly hot liquid. 

“Four years.” Sehun’s glad his voice doesn’t crack. 

Tao smiles again, a small one, and it does nothing to lessen the ache in Sehun’s bones. “I was thinking more like five.” 

The admission hurts, in a way it shouldn’t, because Tao is perfectly welcome to consider it five years instead of the four that Sehun has been hopelessly clinging too all this time. In fact, Sehun wishes he were strong enough to do the same.

“Would you like to catch up sometime?” He asks, because now that Tao is back, he would rather die than let him go again– let this go again. The admission is dramatic. Sehun is glad no one can read his mind. 

Tao studies him for a moment, eyes sharp and seeing, and it makes Sehun want to shift back and forth on his toes like he used to do in high school, when he was nervous and anxious and just wanted to make people happy. 

“Sure.” He answers, reaching into his pocket for what is most likely his phone. “Can I get your number?”

Sehun exhales deeply, and it does nothing to extinguish the flame inside of him, eating up his insides and spitting them out. Being around Tao hurts. “I still have yours.” He says, and hefts the drinks into his hands. He does not look at Tao’s face, or remember the way their hands felt, brushed up against one another. “I’ll call you.” 

Sehun leaves, and does not cry. 

\---

“Thanks for the coffee.” Jongin says, smugly, because he can. Sehun does not think of Tao, and his face when he saw Sehun again.

“You’ll be the one getting them next week.” He mutters, because as unfair as this job is, at least their boss is nice enough to make the interns switch off every week for coffee runs. Plus, the coffee shop is across the street from the office. It’s hardly a coffee run– instead, more of a coffee walk. (Maybe a coffee power walk, if Sehun is running late.)

Jongin laughs, and it sounds ridiculous. “I know that. I just need something to make fun of you for.” 

Sehun rolls his eyes, because of course, after all this time, Jongin still can’t be nice to him. They two of them have known each other from the very first day of university, when Sehun had stumbled into the dorm room with bags coming out of his ears. Jongin had laughed at him then, the same way he’s laughing now, and Sehun had nearly punched him in the face, settling for a solid glare and two hours of silent treatment. From then on, the rest had been history.

“Get back to work, boys.” Junmyeon says, passing by the open door of the intern office and snagging the last remaining drink. He’s not really their boss, per se, but he’s in charge of their employment and was the one who got the two of them the job in the first place, so Sehun refers to him as such anyways. Plus, there’s nothing really wrong with inflating his ego– especially when Junmyeon’s the one who controls his paycheck. 

“I’m working!” Jongin sputters, all talk and no action. A bit of coffee spills from the corner of his mouth, and Sehun resists the urge to reach over and wipe it off. It’s gross. 

Junmyeon scoffs. “Sure you are.” He says, and ignores how Jongin’s work computer is suspiciously opened to a game of solitaire. Sehun’s isn’t on at all, but he’s hoping that since he had just arrived Junmyeon will have some mercy on him. 

“Did you just come here to mock me for my work ethic?” Jongin pouts, both of them ignoring Sehun’s complete lack of productivity, and Sehun smiles. Junmyeon seems caught off guard, and takes a moment to stare blankly at Jongin’s bottom lip before remembering why exactly he came over to bother the interns. Sehun’s stomach churns.

“No. You wish, though.” He replies, laughing slightly. Sehun was hoping to get through the morning with minimal effort, really, some coffee and maybe a bit of filing, but when Junmyeon drops a heavy stack of papers on their table, all of that hope flies out the window. 

“It’s a gift.” He says, winking cheekily, and Jongin groans. “I’ll need all of these updated in the system, preferably before both of your shifts end.” 

Jongin lets out a fake sob, and Sehun wants to join in. Junmyeon is still watching them, however, eyes bright with mischief, so Sehun powers up his computer and prepares himself for a long morning of mind numbing work instead. 

\---

“I saw Tao today.” Sehun says to Luhan, conversationally, over bubble tea. Even the icy condensation on the outside of the plastic cup isn’t enough to help him forget the feeling of Tao’s hands, silky and familiar. 

“Did you, now.” Luhan phrases it like a statement instead of a question, and takes a sip of his tea, but Sehun knows him well enough to know when he is being lied to and when something important is being hidden from him. 

“Why didn’t you tell me he was back?” In the country, Sehun wants to add on, but Luhan knows what he means. For the most part, at least. 

Luhan smiles an innocent smile that does nothing to soothe Sehun’s aching nerves. “Would you have preferred it if I had told you?” 

No, he wouldn’t have. There is a fine line between over it and obsessive, and Sehun has been trying to avoid it altogether for years and years. 

But still. It would have been nice to prepare himself, at least, for seeing Tao again after all this time of trying to forget.

Luhan’s smile softens a bit, from innocence to something that someone, if they didn’t know Luhan well, might call genuine care. (Sehun had learned long ago not to expect anything from him.) “He never actually told me he was coming back. I just saw it when he posted a picture of himself in the airport with all of his bags.” 

It doesn’t do much to make Sehun feel better, but at least it’s something. 

“When was this?” Sehun basically demands. It’s not like Luhan to hide things from him, but when he does, Sehun knows that it’s important. 

Luhan shrugs. “Last year, maybe? I don’t remember, it was a long time ago and I don’t care for these sorts of things.”

It’s not the answer Sehun’s looking for, but it’s an answer nonetheless and he’ll take it. “Did he know I was here?” Sehun asks, because he has to know– fine line be damned. 

“I’d assume so.” Luhan frowns a bit, his brows furrowing. “He knows what school you go to, at least.” 

So Tao had come back, fully aware that Sehun was here and thriving and maybe even moving on. Of course. 

And, the worst part, perhaps, is that it seems as though Tao isn’t toeing that dumb line between over it and obsessive– he’s over it, through and through, and has been, and it sucks because Sehun’s pretty sure he’s still far into the land of obsessive, not even close to seeing the line. 

“Okay.” Sehun says, and gets to work chewing a pearl or two, because what else is there to do? 

Luhan must notice that Sehun’s caught up in his thoughts, because he reaches out an arm over the table to pat Sehun on the shoulder. Sehun doesn’t flinch. 

“It’ll be okay.” He says, and Sehun wishes he could believe him. “Maybe you two can be friends again?” 

Sehun’s throat aches. He takes another sip of tea, and the cold sends him into a coughing fit. 

“Maybe.” He says, throat hoarse and scratchy, and doesn’t mention anything about how he thought they already were. 

\---

He texts Tao that night, a simple  _ hello this is sehun _ , but he gets no reply. He expects it, to a certain degree, but when he wakes up the next morning and sees that Tao still hasn’t read the message, Sehun starts wondering. 

Tao’s not at the coffee shop that day either, and while it could be his day off, Sehun’s mind spins a myriad of stories– all of which make no sense. It’s a nightmare, waiting for a reply, waiting for anything, really, and while a part of him curses Tao the other part of him thinks that yes, perhaps he deserves this. 

Tao’s reply comes while Sehun is in class, bored out of his mind. He feels his phone vibrate in his pocket, and the teacher is droning on and on, but still he resists the urge to check it. 

A taste of his own medicine, if you will. 

But after class Sehun has rehearsal, and then discussion and a study group meeting and homework, and it’s not until right before bed that he remembers to check his phone at all. 

He has two messages from Tao at this point, the second one lost when he had put his phone on silent during theater. He has a couple from Luhan as well, miscellaneous messages about his day and some dog he saw on the street, and one from Junmyeon, telling him he doesn’t have to get drinks for the office the next morning. 

_ Are you free tonight? _ The first message says, typed out with perfect grammar and spelling and capitalization. 

The next one is slightly less polite, nothing more than a  _ guess not, _ closer to the passive-aggressive type of communication Sehun is used to. He regrets not checking his phone for a moment, because he’d rather get this conversation over with sooner rather than later, but Tao– if he even remembers anything about Sehun by now– should at least remember that Sehun is shitty in social conversations and even shittier when remembering to check on them. 

_ Sorry _ , he types back, regret seeping into his veins.  _ I just got home _ . It’s a lie, kinda, but a white lie, and whatever Tao doesn’t know won’t hurt him. 

This time, however, the reply comes five minutes later and his phone lights up his single dorm room with a glow that makes Sehun want to roll over into his pillow and ignore it. 

_ No problem, but I won’t be available for the next couple of days _ . The message makes no allusion to the hours in which Tao was ignored, something that Sehun both is thankful for and hates with a burning passion. 

_ That’s fine. _ Sehun replies, because he’s really not in any hurry to see Tao again.  _ Just lemme know when you’re available, yeah? _

_ Only if you don’t ignore me again _ , and Sehun wishes he could find the humor in that text, only all he sees in his mind are Tao’s cattish eyes, curving upwards, and his mouth, twisted into a heavy line, and all of a sudden all of it is too much. 

He gulps down the rising pit in his stomach. It’s okay, Sehun tells himself, because this is how people text– this is how friends text their other friends and there’s nothing wrong with messages like this, and really, it’s just him making a big deal of nothing and by now Tao is probably asleep and–

Sehun rolls over and closes his eyes. He does not reply. (He can’t wait to see Tao again.) 

\---

The next day passes in a blur, and the one after that, and for a moment Sehun starts wondering if seeing Tao again was just a dream. If the messages were all part of his imagination and in reality, Tao is back in China, finishing university and working hard, just like the rest of them. 

But no. Every time Sehun opens his phone, he sees the texts sent back and forth between the two of them, Tao’s offhandish and (most likely) joking reply. It makes him nervous, makes him anxious, and Sehun spends his days looking over his shoulder, both afraid of seeing Tao and looking forward to seeing him again. 

He had looked good, standing behind the counter in that coffee shop, and Sehun wonders how much better he will look when the two of then are wide awake and having the conversation he’s been waiting all these years to have. 

“You look stressed.” Baekhyun tells him, and Sehun wishes he could snap back with a good reply, but the exhaustion is finally creeping up on him. The student lounge hidden in the depths of their dorm building isn’t doing much to help, and Sehun finds himself being slowly enticed into the dreamworld by the scratching of pens and the soft breaths of the people around him that seem to echo off the walls. 

“I’m studying, of course I’m stressed.” He says instead, tired. Baekhyun laughs, and jabs his finger into Sehun’s book with accusation. 

“Don’t lie.” He snorts, before dumping his plethora of textbooks next to him on the nearly empty table. Sehun winces. “We all know you ace every Chinese class you enroll yourself in, even when you don’t study.” 

The reminder isn’t exactly something Sehun appreciates, but he supposes it is something to be reminded of regardless. Sehun would consider why, exactly, he does better in his extracurricular language course than he does in the ones actually required for his major and his minor, but that would be delving into fact based memories that he doesn’t necessarily want to delve into ever. 

“Why are you here?” He sighs, and Baekhyun laughs again. Sehun, of course, because he isn’t a terrible friend, does know why Baekhyun is here– something about an accelerated program and six years of study, but all of that is buried under the real question of why, of all places, are you  _ here? _

“I’m here because I love you.” Baekhyun replies, somehow managing to sound completely serious, and Sehun nearly loses it for a moment. The small chuckle he lets out is almost (almost) completely worth the smile that erupts on Baekhyun’s face, no doubt inordinately happy that he had managed to make blank-faced Sehun break out of the single facial expression that he uses for nearly everything. 

“No really.” Baekhyun says. “I’m here because I looked through the window and saw that you were stressed, even though you were staring at your chinese textbook.” 

Sehun snorts. He doesn’t mean to, because emotions suck, even the good ones, but something about Baekhyun makes him forget that. 

“It’s just…” Sehun trails off. He doesn’t quite know how to phrase it, but Baekhyun is staring at him with wide yet reassuring eyes and it reminds Sehun that there are people here who don’t hate him for what he’s done. That there are people here, in the post apocalypse, who maybe don’t know that there was an apocalypse to begin with. 

“Blast from the past.” He manages to say, and it doesn’t sound nearly as desperate or choked up as he thought it would. “Kinda deja vu-ey, for a lack of a better term.” 

Baekhyun hums appreciatively, and it’s just what Sehun needs. “Deja vu-ey.” He repeats, mostly to himself, but Sehun reckons that if anyone can understand what he’s getting at here it would be Baekhyun. “That sucks.” 

Baekhyun side eyes Sehun. “Unless, of course, the deja vu-ey moment was in fact very good and you’re just searching for a way to make it happen again.” 

Sehun laughs and shakes his head quickly. He hates being surprised, and seeing Tao again was nothing short of that. “No, no.” He says. “I’m looking for ways to make sure that never happens ever again for as long as I live.” 

Baekhyun nods. Sehun’s glad that he gets it. 

They spend another moment in silence, each contemplating the weight of Sehun’s situation. Baekhyun doesn’t pry any further, for which Sehun is grateful, but it makes him wonder what he would say if he did. Baekhyun does his best, but doesn’t take silence very well, and it’s not long before he’s pulling out a Chinese language textbook from the bottom of his stack, the one Sehun had used the semester previous. 

“I did actually have ulterior motives in bothering you.” Baekhyun admits sheepishly, but none of that surprises Sehun. “Can you help me with this?” 

Sehun sighs, falsely exasperated, but Baekhyun sees right through him. Instead of continuing with the façade, though, he simply scooches his chair closer and prepares himself for at least an hour of Baekhyun’s inane questions. 

If anything, at least, this impromptu Chinese lesson might be enough to keep his mind off of Tao. 

(Hah. Who is he trying to kid?)

\---

“How is school going?” Junmyeon asks Sehun, stopping by his desk at work the next day. Jongin has fridays off, something to do with dance practice and a showcase, but in all honesty, Sehun had just started tuning out his longer rants. 

“It’s going.” Sehun replies, because why not?

Junmyeon lets out a short laugh, and it isn’t funny– it really isn’t, and Sehun finds himself laughing along. It’s only for the sake of it, he tells himself, and because he wants to make Junmyeon happy in order to keep his job, even though he knows that Junmyeon wouldn’t fire him or Jongin unless Sehun actively expressed any desire to leave the company. 

“Is there anything I can do to make it go better?” Junmyeon asks kindly, sitting in Jongin’s empty seat. 

Sehun wishes the situation were different, that they were in a more public place instead of the interns’ office or that there were more people around that just the two of them. (He has  _ suspicions, _ ones that he doesn’t want to be true, ones that he’s searching for proof to prove untrue.) Instead of acknowledging them, though, he just shakes his head back at Junmyeon and smiles the nicest smile he can. 

“Not really.” Sehun fiddles with the name badge hanging around his neck. “I’ve almost graduated, anyways.”

Junmyeon laughs again, and Sehun wishes for a moment that he would just stop. Stop laughing, stop smiling, and just stop. “That’s true. It’s hard to believe you’ve gotten so big already.” 

Sehun wants to retort, something about Junmyeon always being short, but there’s a glint in his eye that makes Sehun swallow back the words into his throat. Plus, if he thinks about it super hard, the words aren’t exactly nice, and if he goes back far enough in his memory he can still see a horrified face and the echoing words. 

_ Why would you ever say something like that? _

“It’s because of that growth spurt I had sophomore year.” Sehun jokes, and that is much better. Junmyeon giggles, and it’s the third time he’s laughed during their short conversation. Sehun fears his suspicions might be reality. (He’s always known they were true.)

Junmyeon stands for a moment, to take of his jacket before sitting down again, coat hanging on Jongin’s chair behind him, much more comfortable than he was before. Sehun is not enamored at all by the whole movement. 

“Tell me about the play you’re doing this semester.” He instructs. It sounds like a question, but Sehun has heard this tone of voice before and knows to respond accordingly. 

“It’s pretty mainstream.” He says, wrinkling his nose in mock disgust. 

Junmyeon plays along. “Mainstream isn’t always bad.” He jokes. He has nice eyes, but Sehun hardly notices, too busy thinking about his theater class and the musical they’ve been rehearsing.

Sehun laughs a real laugh, maybe for the first time, and the conversation takes an easy turn from there. Junmyeon isn’t like Baekhyun, tricking him into answering his questions, but is instead soft and kind, taking his mind off the subject entirely. 

Sehun wonders if this is what it’s like for other people. To be loved. 

\---

By the time Sehun has The Conversation (the words in his head are bolded and underlined and italicized) with Tao, he’s mostly over it. 

And by mostly, he means that he is, perhaps, finally on the over it side of the line, staring longingly at obsessive but ultimately keeping his space. 

(Who is he kidding. He’s still obsessive.)

“It’s been a while.” Tao says, over some unknown drink, because Sehun has never been the type to memorize drink orders and repeat them dramatically to the waiter in a beautifully romantic gesture. 

He wonders how different this conversation would be if he had, except this is just a coffee shop near campus, and Tao would have probably thought he was creepy or something along those lines.

“Five years.” Sehun replies, and his voice does not catch on the words. 

Tao smiles. It’s not a nice smile. “No, you’re right.” He says. “It’s been four.” 

The conversation feels a bit like a dream. Maybe it is a nice smile, actually, but Sehun has just spent the past six years of his life associating it with not nice things.

“I can see why you would consider it five.” Sehun says, because he does not know when to give up. 

Tao fizes him with a look that has him quickly shutting up and taking a sip of his coffee. It burns angrily in his mouth. “You said it was four.” 

Don’t play this game. Not here, not now. The words go unsaid, but Sehun hears them all the same, a figment of his imagination against the words that actually have been said all those years ago. 

He remains silent. “So.” Tao says, folding his fingers together around his drink. “Tell me what’s changed since then.” 

Sehun wonders if the heat from the drink is making Tao’s hands hotter than they normally are, or if he’s just gotten used to dealing with burning liquids all the time. He wonders why Tao came back when he has a family, a life back in China. Selfishly, he wonders who Tao came back for to begin with. 

“Not much has happened.” Sehun starts out slowly, and does not look at Tao’s face. “Luhan found a boyfriend and is studying for his masters degree.” Even though Tao probably already knew that.  “My old roommate and I work at the tall glass building across the street from the shop you work at.” Irrelevant. “I got back in touch with Yixing last year.” Slightly more relevant, but still achy all the same. 

None of it really matters, though, and Sehun can see on Tao’s face that he feels the same. The underlying elephant in the room is enough to fill both their hearts and maybe the whole coffee shop, and Sehun wishes nothing more for it to go away, for them to revert to the people they were years and years ago, to have never seen Tao again and reconnected with him. 

“You’re still really bad at this, huh.” Tao muses to himself, and ouch. That hurts. 

“Yeah.” Sehun replies, ignoring it, because so what if it hurts? He manages to convince himself that Tao is hurting too, and ultimately ignores the thoughtful look on his face. 

“For me,” Tao starts, and Sehun thanks the stars that Tao is taking control of the conversation now. “I came back two years ago. I reconnected with Luhan when I got here, and my old friend from China got me a place to stay and a job. I transferred credits from my university in China to a university here and am currently on the accelerated track studying to become teacher back in China.” He checks them all of his hands methodically, and Sehun does not stare at his fingers. 

“I shouldn’t say old friend.” For the first time, Sehun sees something on Tao’s face that isn’t detached indifference. It looks a little bit sheepish, almost, like someone who was nearly caught doing something they shouldn’t be. “He’s my boyfriend now.” 

Sehun  _ aches _ . 

“Boyfriend.” He hums. “Interesting.” 

Tao doesn’t look willing to say any more about the subject, but Sehun thinks he might have crossed back into obsessive once more. “Did you come back here for him?” 

Something shutters shut in Tao’s eyes, or so Sehun thinks, because he has never been any good at reading Tao’s emotions. “Don’t be ridiculous.” Tao chastises, looking offended at the mere thought that he would do anything for anyone besides himself. “The teaching program is better here.” 

There is a moment, here, where Sehun thinks he might fall apart. The conversation might fall apart. A moment where the two of them might lower themselves deeper into this unnamed pit and resort to something more brutal, something less passive-aggressive and just plain aggressive. 

But the moment is gone, and Tao’s eyebrows relax, so Sehun allows himself to breathe. “When I graduate, we might go back to China.” He continues. 

Sehun does not ask if he might stay. 

“It’s good that you’re making plans together.” He says, and hates that Tao has already moved on. He wishes he could stop thinking. 

“It is, isn’t it.” Tao muses, and smiles a small smile, mostly to himself. Sehun does not wonder if Tao ever looked at him like that. He’s not sure what would be better, knowing or not knowing, yes or no. 

“What about you?” Tao asks, turning the conversation back to Sehun, and really– this is why he did not want to see Tao again. “Do you have a boyfriend?”

“No.” Sehun replies, hopefully not to quick. He ignores his suspicions. “I don’t.” 

“That’s funny.” Tao says, the corners of his mouth turning up meanly. “You dated a lot in high school, didn’t you?” 

Sehun swallows. “Yes, I did. But I stopped in university.” As though the last statement will do anything at all to negate the first. 

“Why?” Tao tilts his head, and the smirk is gone. He seems almost innocent like this, untouched by the cruel world, but Sehun knows better than to fall for this act again. 

It’s a dangerous question, this one single word. Sehun doesn’t know what Tao is asking, whether he’s asking about then or now, but the theme of this conversation makes it seem like now is the safer choice. Sehun picks now. 

He shrugs. “I just haven’t found anyone I like, I guess.” Which is true. To a certain extent. 

This isn’t The Conversation (bold underline italicize) that they need to have.

Tao nods, like it makes sense, as though he hasn’t moved on and been over it for years. “Maybe you’ll find someone for you soon, then.” He says, and tips back the last of his drink down his throat. Sehun allows himself one last moment of watching Tao’s adam’s apple as he swallows it before averting his gaze as Tao looks back at him once more. 

He doesn’t know how the time has passed so fast. It seems like just minutes ago that they sat down to talk, and already Tao is finishing his drink and ready to leave. 

Sehun wonders if it’s for good this time. 

“Tell me about university.” Tao says, sitting back in his chair, and maybe their conversation isn’t over after all. “Are you still pursuing dance?” 

Jongin’s face flashes through Sehun’s mind, concerned, and Junmyeon’s follows shortly after, soft and understanding. Sehun wonders if the pulsing in his stomach is supposed to fade. 

“No.” He says, and takes a sip of coffee. And another. Tao isn’t satisfied by this answer, clearly, but Sehun allows himself a moment to swallow before continuing. 

“I’m a theater major now.” The words hurt a little bit less every time he says them. Sehun wonders if one day, they’ll stop hurting altogether. “I switched after my first year, and it was probably one of the best decisions I have ever made.” 

“Why is that?” Tao asks, moving along the conversation accordingly. 

Sehun shrugs and plays with the sleeve around his drink. “I don’t know.” He says. He’s never been going at talking about himself. 

Tao rolls his eyes, and scoffs, and Sehun knows that he’s annoyed but all of this is becoming just a little bit too much right now. 

“Try.” Tao instructs, and Sehun hates how Tao can still make him do things that he feels uncomfortable with, even after all these years, even though they’re for his own good. 

“I saw people who were much better than I was.” Sehun tries, and the words don’t feel like his in his mouth. “They were really good, and I was just good enough to get into the program, and after a while that pressure started to take a toll on me.” It sounds clinical when he says it like this, which is good, because Tao doesn’t have to know how his first year of university tore him apart. 

“I auditioned for a musical during the second semester, and I beat out a lot of theater majors. One of the professors saw me and asked me if I had ever considered changing majors. It all went from there, really.” The last few words leave his mouth in a sigh, like a rush. 

Tao hums, neither approvingly nor disapprovingly. “And why is it better now?” 

Sehun laughs, even though it’s not funny. “It’s better because I take classes I really like.” He says. “I watch movies during them, sometimes, and it makes being stressed more fun. We take notes on facial expressions and body movement and I take psychology courses and communication courses and it’s taught me to use my words, kinda.” 

_ I’m trying _ , he wants to say, but he’s afraid of what might follow. 

Tao stares at him for a moment, and it’s another one of those moments, where Sehun feels like it can all fall apart, like he’s done something wrong. Once again, he braces himself for the impact, but Tao smiles a nice smile this time, and it’s directed at him. 

_ I couldn’t tell. Maybe you should try harder. _

“Good.” Tao says. “I’m proud of you, Hun.” 

The nickname pierces Sehun right through his center, right as he’s finishing his coffee. It’s easy (too easy) to pretend that he’s coughing because he’s choking and his drink is still hot, instead of any other reason Tao might believe. 

“Tell me about your teaching program.” Sehun says, once he’s recovered. He doesn’t want to talk about himself anymore. 

Thankfully, because Tao really does enjoy talking about himself, he takes the conversation back. Sehun allows himself to sit back in his chair and relax, similar to the way Tao did earlier. It’s easier now to focus on the words he’s saying rather than the meaning behind them, and before long, Sehun finds himself caught up in nothing more than catching up with a friend. 

Funny, how the only person who really makes Sehun able to forget Tao is Tao himself. 

\---

“Come meet Kris’ new boyfriend this weekend.” Chanyeol instructs over the phone the next day. 

“New boyfriend?” Sehun asks, rifling through his coursework with one hand, searching for his art history assignment. He feels like he’s turning into Junmyeon, with how unorganized and messy he is. His other hand is holding his phone close to his ear, not directly pressed against it, because Chanyeol is loud even on his quietest setting and Sehun knows better than to blow his own eardrums out. 

“Hasn’t he been dating the same dude for months?” Sehun continues, making a small a-ha noise when he finds his assignment.

He can practically hear Chanyeol roll his eyes over the phone as he relaxes to his bed and focuses on the conversation. “Yes, but we haven’t met him yet, so he’s basically a new boyfriend.” 

Sehun hums in understanding. “I’m still surprised he took this long to introduce him to us.” Kris, if nothing else, is definitely one of the most emotional people Sehun knows. 

“Really?” Chanyeol sounds confused. “He always does that weird compartmentalizing thing with us though.” 

Sehun thinks about Kris, and how sometimes he tells half truths in order to get the attention off the things he isn’t saying, and how sometimes Sehun feels like he knows him before he realizes that really, he knows nothing at all. 

It would be easy to hate Kris, maybe. 

“That’s true.” Sehun says, to Chanyeol. “I don’t know if I’m available that day though.” 

Chanyeol laughs. “You’re never busy unless you’re with one of us.” It’s said like a joke, and Sehun laughs, but he also wonders what makes interactions like this different than the ones he has with Tao, when he feels like crying and laughing and maybe punching someone in the face all at the same time. 

He shouldn’t be thinking about Tao right now. 

“It’s a hint, so that you’ll tell me what day the meet up is and who will be there so I can prepare.” He jokes, and does not think about Tao. 

“It’s this Saturday, so you have plenty of time to prepare.” Chanyeol retorts back, in tandem. “And Junmyeon and Luhan will be going, which means Minseok will come too, and me and Baekhyun and Kyungsoo are invited which means you have to bring Jongin, and Junmyeon will bring Jongdae and apparently the boyfriend is bringing a friend too.” He trails off at the end, mind mixed up between all the different people mentioned, and Sehun hardly blames him. 

“It sounds more like a party than anything.” Sehun replies, putting his phone on speaker and dropping it on his pillow. He’s half tempted to go to sleep right here, in the middle of this conversation, but his art history assignment mocks him from its place on his desk. 

“It kinda is. It’s Kris though, so what do you expect?” 

Sehun shrugs, even though he’s not visible. “I don’t know, really. Maybe something with more compartmentalizing?” 

He uses the word Chanyeol had used earlier, the one that had made Sehun anxious and unhappy. Chanyeol laughs, though, a full body laugh that no doubt has everything around him shaking as well, and Sehun smiles in satisfaction to himself. 

“I’ll see you Saturday, then?” Chanyeol asks, and Sehun hums his affirmative. 

This is what it’s like, then. For other people. 

\---

Sehun doesn’t see Tao all week, which is partially because he has never texts first and it’s Jongin’s turn to do coffee runs this week. Junmyeon seems to catch on to his anxiousness, or something, because he’s even nice than he normally is, patting Sehun’s head every time he walks past their desks and giving Jongin most– if not all– of the brunt work. Sehun spends most of his time in the office filing things by hand, reading number and names out loud, while Jongin stares squinty-eyed at the computer screen and attempts to make sense of the numbers and names there. 

Altogether, it’s a good week. 

His good week comes to an abrupt halt, however, when it comes time to meet Kris’ new boyfriend. (As Chanyeol refuses to stop calling him.)

He doesn’t think much of it, at first. Kris is a good guy, a friend of a friend (and by that, he means Junmyeon’s friend) who he’s met a few times. He’s rich, and Chinese, and owns a nice apartment that’s an hour long bus ride away from the university campus. He may compartmentalize his life a little, and hide things from people he doesn't know well, but those aren’t necessarily bad traits, and Sehun doesn’t mind them. All in all, Sehun doesn’t think much of it at all. 

It’s not until he’s toeing his shoes off in the hallway of Kris’ apartment with Baekhyun on one side of him and Jongin on the other that his mind starts racing. There, on the floor, is a pair of shoes so obnoxiously fancy that Sehun can only think of one person in the world who would wear them. 

Sure enough, when Sehun finds the courage to lift up his head (he doesn’t know where it comes from), Tao is staring directly at him, tucked under Kris’ unfairly long arm, mouth parted a little in shock. Sehun wishes he were more surprised than he already is, but at this point, he’s learned that sometimes life is going to fuck with him just because it can. 

“You made it.” Kris sounds relieved and completely oblivious to the tension between Sehun his boyfriend. 

“We’re not that late.” Baekhyun says, as though the three of them didn’t leave campus fifteen minutes before the official start of Kris’ get together. 

Kris sighs in fake exasperation and gestures for them to sit down. Everyone else (Sehun counts a quick eleven heads in total) has crammed into the small apartment and made an oblong circle, and Sehun sees Junmyeon scooch backwards on his butt into the wall in order to make room for the three of them to join. 

There are bottles of alcohol in the middle, bottles that Sehun doesn’t care to identify, but hardly any of them are open. There’s one, placed within Tao’s reach, and another in Kyungsoo’s hand, but the rest are scattered in the middle of the jelly bean along with nearly empty take out boxes and a half eaten pizza. 

“These are my interns.” Junmyeon says, introducing Sehun and Jongin to Tao, and Sehun does not flinch. “You should all be around the same age, I think.” He seats himself next to Junmyeon, and Jongin sits on his other side, and while his only buffer between him and Tao is his best friend and Kris, Sehun deems it good enough for now. Baekhyun, on the other hand, deems it necessary to sit directly in Chanyeol’s lap. There’s some screaming, some groans of (most likely) pain, and then silence.

“I’ve been meaning to ask about that, actually.” Kris says, again ignoring the atmosphere, and steals Tao’s beer bottle for a quick sip. Tao pouts, and it is unfairly cute. “Why are they your interns when they’re both performing arts majors?” 

“Business minor.” Sehun and Jongin say, in unison, before smiling and high fiving. Sehun can see Kyungsoo rolling his eyes from across the room, but that doesn’t make it any less funny. 

“There are three reasons why we have jobs.” Jongin says, with false importance. This illusion is quickly shattered when he reaches into the center of their jelly bean to grab a bottle of beer. He spends a few moment attempting to open it by himself before realizing, ultimately, that he can’t. Sehun grabs it and passes it to Junmyeon, who opens it easily. More than one person laughs. 

Unhindered, Jongin continues. “One, Junmyeon is lazy.” This time, Sehun can’t help but let out a short laugh. Junmyeon elbows him in the stomach. “Two, Junmyeon is rich. Three, Junmyeon loves Sehun.” 

The entire circle ooh’s dramatically, and Sehun bends his knees and pulls his legs up and buries his head in his knees. The phrasing could have been better, because Junmyeon loves all his friends, and while part of him wants to reach out and sock Jongin in the face, the other part of him simply hopes that Tao doesn’t take it the wrong way. 

Hopeless. 

Luhan coughs a little, recovering from his laughter, and Sehun hates him. “Could you, uh, elaborate? Maybe a little?” 

Sehun takes over from there, because it’s obvious that Jongin has no idea what he’s talking about. 

“Junmyeon inherited his father’s company when he graduated because he’s rich.” Everyone’s eyes are on him. “He’s also super busy and somewhat lazy, though, and hates doing the menial tasks that are involved in his work. Therefore, when I asked if he had a job opening for two business minors, because he loves his friends–” he emphasizes the word ‘friends’, glaring pointedly at Jongin “–he decided to give us the job.” 

“Okay.” Luhan says, nodding like he understands, and Sehun prays that he doesn’t say anything else stupid. “Junmyeon is lazy, rich, and loves Sehun.” 

The entire circle ooh’s and laughs once more, and Sehun resists the urge to bury his head in his knees again. Or in the ground. Maybe bury Luhan’s whole body in the ground, one can never tell with these types of feelings. 

“It’s okay.” Junmyeon whispers in Sehun’s ear, leaning over, and wow. This really isn’t helping. “They’re just teasing.” 

Sehun turns his gaze to Junmyeon, who is a nice shade of red, and wonders who exactly it is they’re teasing. He hates his suspicions. 

The mood is broken with the buzzing of the speaker, causing everyone to frown and count the number of people sitting in their misshapen circle mentally. (Jongdae uses his fingers.)

“Who are we missing?” He asks, staring at his one upright finger in confusion. Sehun laughs, but so does Tao, and there is a moment of awkwardness that only comes through unwanted eye contact with someone you aren’t supposed to connect with. 

It is, however, also a moment of clarity, because Sehun looks around the room and remembers Chanyeol’s ramble and suddenly realizes that Tao’s friend is missing. 

The boyfriend’s friend. Great. 

Tao must realize the same thing, because he breaks eye contact quickly and jumps out from under Kris’ arm and races towards the door. “That’s my friend from China!” He exclaims excitedly, like a child. Kris smiles a warm smile, and Sehun wonders if he himself had ever looked at Tao like that. 

Once again, Sehun’s not sure if he wants to know the answer to his own question. 

But Tao opens the door, presumably for his friend, and Sehun wonders if tonight is reunion night because the last person he’d want to see ever (next to Kris’ boyfriend, of course) is entering the apartment, apologizing softly for being late, accent heavy on his tongue. 

“Oh.” Yixing says, and Sehun wishes they would stop saying that when they see him. “Hello.” 

“Sit with me, Ge.” Tao hardly gives him a moment to rest before he’s pulling on Yixing’s arm, leading him to the smidge of space between Kris and Minseok. 

“I don’t mean to intrude.” Yixing says, but sits down without a fuss. Sehun would ordinarily assume that this comment is meant for Kris, the owner of the house, but he’s staring directly at Sehun, eyes crinkled in serious apology. Sehun wishes he could hate Yixing, but even after all these years he’s still ridiculously  _ nice _ , and even though he probably isn’t, it feels as though Yixing is apologizing to Sehun for intruding on his life, in his country. 

“It’s okay.” Kris says, and with some effort, Sehun tears his eyes away from the newcomer. “I’m just glad you could make it.” 

Yixing laughs, and seems to move on as well. “Traffic was terrible.” He says. “I don’t remember it being this bad before.” 

“You’re local?” Minseok asks quickly, tilting his body to give himself a better view. “I thought you lived in China?” 

Yixing hums and frowns, no doubt phrasing his words properly in his head. “Kind of.” He answers. “I went to high school here before going back to China for university. Both Tao and I did, actually.” 

“Really?” 

“Yeah.” Tao interrupts, in a very conservative manner. “It’s one of the reasons why I was so comfortable with transferring to a university here.” 

“Huh.” Minseok nods to himself. “Where did you guys attend high school?” 

“With me!” Luhan butts in, quick as a mouse. It seems to be a trend in their relationship to hijack conversations at the speed of light, but Sehun notes that Minseok doesn’t mind. He wonders what it’s like between just the two of them, if it’s all quick back and forth comments or more of the creepy mind reading that they tend to do in public. 

“So you went to school with Sehun too, then.” Minseok says, sharp eyes turning quickly. A lot of other heads turn, too, eager to know more about these two strangers, and as much as Sehun wants to play along and brush it off like it’s nothing, he also very much wants to hide under a rock and never come out for all of eternity. 

Junmyeon places a comforting hand on his thigh. It helps, a little bit, in easing his anxiety, but the stress comes back full force the minute Tao begins to speak. 

“We did, yeah.” He says, and Sehun barely hears him over the roaring in his head. “But I didn’t know Sehun that well. He was a mysterious guy, always gloomy and sitting by himself. No one could ever tell what he was thinking.” 

Sehun supposes it makes sense, that Tao would want to avoid talking about what high school was really like between the two of them. There’s history there, history that Sehun is not sure Kris knows about, and while Tao is acting cleverly on both of their behalves it does nothing to make the sting of his last statement hurt any less. 

“You weren’t much better back then, either.” Sehun manages to retort. It’s not much of a comeback, all things considered, but the attention seems to be moving away from any relationship that might have occurred between Tao and Sehun and on to other things. 

Yixing snorts, and it seems that he too understands the dark place where Tao and Sehun really don’t want this conversation to go. “Sehun’s right, Tao.” He says. “You had those awful eyebags and everyone thought you were a vampire because you never spoke.” 

“I didn’t speak because I was shy!” 

“You still have those awful eyebags.” Kris muses, and speaks the same time Tao does. Kris reaches out a long finger to poke at the skin beneath Tao’s cat eyes, and Tao pretends to snap and bite at Kris’ finger, and it’s cute. The two of them are cute and maybe in love and that means absolutely nothing to Sehun at all. 

“Did you know Luhan and Sehun in high school?” Minseok turns the interrogation back to Yixing, refusing to let the subject die. Sehun wishes he would just give up. 

Yixing shrugs. “A little bit.” He says. “The four of us danced, even though Tao was never placed in a group with us.” 

Sehun doesn’t want to think about how the four of them had danced together. 

“He liked to go solo.” Luhan giggles, leaning into Minseok’s side and looking up at his boyfriend with wide eyes. 

Minseok looks down for a moment and pets Luhan’s hair with the softest smile Sehun has seen ever, and he hates that even here, even now, he’s comparing everything– everyone he sees with Tao and the way he used to look at him.

“But none of you guys dance anymore?” Minseok asks. He seems a bit put out. Sehun would be, too, if he was dating Luhan. He feels a bit bad for Minseok, who has never seen Luhan in his prime dancing days, who never saw Luhan when he was on stage, ready to steal the hearts of every single person in the audience. (Mostly, Sehun is sad that Minseok never saw the abs.)

Yixing coughs. “I do.” He says. “I’m a choreographer back home.” 

Jongin stretches out his legs. “How busy are you on average?” He asks, sounding almost completely innocent. Sehun hears the underlying eagerness in his voice and resists the urge to laugh. 

Yixing shrugs. “It’s hard to say. My schedule is flexible, and my company is letting me take a month off to gain inspiration, so I flew out to visit Tao.” 

Sehun can imagine it. Yixing, who had always worked hard, working hard in China to make beautiful art. He imagines the powerful moves he’s always been fond of, the balance between the people dancing and the balance within themselves, and decides that Yixing probably makes an amazing choreographer. 

“Can I see your work?” Jongin asks, giving up all pretenses leaning excitedly into Kris’ arm to get closer to Yixing. Kris, to his credit, doesn’t seem annoyed or surprised, and takes the weight accordingly. 

Yixing’s eyebrows scrunch together. “Sure, if you really want to.” He says, as though he can’t imagine why someone would want to watch professionals dance to his professionally made choreographies that he gets paid to make. Professionally. 

“Jongin is a dance major.” Kyungsoo volunteers the information with a small smile and a glint in his eye. He also sounds like he’s doing his best not to burst into laughter. “He’s probably really interested in having a job like yours in the future.” 

“Oh?” Yixing asks, raising an eyebrow and leaning back towards him. “Tell me more about what you’re studying.” 

Jongin begins speaking, fast, because he has no qualms about talking about himself and the things he loves to do. Sehun gets caught up in it for a moment, passion underlying the quick flow of words. Yixing seems to be following along for the most part, nodding in all the right places and asking all the right questions, but Sehun realizes quickly that this is a conversation for them, between the two dancers. This time, admitting it to himself hurts less than he thought it would. 

Luhan, on the other hand, is busy explaining everything about his friendship with Tao in highschool, and how they had bonded over being a small and tight knit group of Chinese students. 

“It had sucked, y’know, especially because I had to retake the year because I transferred in the middle and didn’t take all my credits with me.” Luhan is saying. “But at least this way I got to meet Tao and Sehun and Yixing, so it wasn’t quite so bad after all.” 

Jongdae and Minseok coo adoringly, and Sehun once again resists the urge to bury his head in something lethal. He can see Tao blushing, though, which is a good thing. He looks good when he’s embarrassed and loved, and Sehun stops his mind quickly from going any farther into that thought. 

Kyungsoo, however, frowns at his hands. “I don’t get it.” He says. “How old even are you?” 

Luhan laughs at that, and so does Sehun, because even though Luhan is well above the drinking age he still gets carded at bars. They all do, for the most part, except Kris. That might be because he glares at everyone who gets in his way, but Sehun can’t be sure. 

“I’ll explain later.” Luhan says. “In private.” He winks, and Minseok slaps his arm. Sehun rolls his eyes because Luhan is a shameless flirt even when taken, and there is nothing Minseok can do to stop that. 

Kyungsoo must also know the offhand comment means close to nothing as well, because he simply raises one eyebrow and punches Chanyeol in the shoulder hard when he reaches over to steal the bottle from Kyungsoo’s hand. 

“Get your own.” He mutters, and Sehun would think he was angry, but his eyes are soft and his hand rests for a split second on Chanyeol’s shoulder, rubbing it, so he must not mean what he said. 

“Is it me,” Jongin asks, leaning over to whisper in Sehun’s ear. “Or is everyone in this friend group at least a little bit gay?” 

Sehun laughs loudly, and more than one person turns to look at him before returning to their own mini conversations. Someone has turned on Kris’ nice flat screen T.V. and Sehun hears the Mario Kart theme from somewhere, but he doesn't turn around to look. 

He ignores the piercing stare Tao sends his way and instead buries his face in Junmyeon’s shoulder, finally. It’s a good shoulder.

Junmyeon reaches up and places his hand on Sehun’s head in one smooth, calm, move. The stretch is uncomfortable for Sehun’s neck, because he’s taller than Junmyeon even when sitting, but he feels the safest he’s felt all night anyways. 

\---

Sehun doesn’t see Tao for another week after Kris’ casual get together, which is okay, because he sees him at Jongdae’s birthday celebration anyways. 

It’s a big affair, as most things with Jongdae are, and everyone seems to have been caught up in it. Baekhyun and Jongin spend most of their time at Jongdae’s place preparing (Baekhyun because he loves his best friend and Jongin because Kyungsoo is there), which gives Sehun plenty of space to study and meditate on his own. He spends a lot of time by himself, walking around campus, and taking naps between classes. 

Needless to say, he’s bored. 

Even Junmyeon seems to be swept up in everything, too. Sehun doesn’t blame him, because while he may not know Junmyeon’s entire life story, he does know that the both him and Minseok were somewhat influential in Jongdae’s upbringing as a child. (Jongdae was the one who had introduced the two of them after all, when he was rooming with Baekhyun and staying on Sehun and Jongin’s floor.) Luhan, as Minseok’s self-proclaimed ‘other half’, is doing his part as a faithful boyfriend to stand by Minseok’s side, leaving Sehun little to nothing to do. 

Tao is gone, somewhere, which either means he’s hiding behind the closed door and letting his coworkers take care of Sehun’s drink orders, or he’s genuinely busy. 

(It scares Sehun a little bit that Tao knows so much about him, such as what he’s studying and where he goes to university, and he hardly knows anything about Tao in return.) 

They still haven’t had The Conversation they need to have, and that in itself makes Sehun nervous again. He’s tired of being anxious, but there’s so much that needs to be said– so much that hasn’t been said yet. He thought he was fine, before, when he didn’t think he would ever see Tao again, but now that everything’s coming back together, it’s all Sehun can do to stay sane. 

Junmyeon drives Sehun to Jongdae’s party, which is nice of him. He volunteers to drive Jongin, too, but Jongin is already there, having been picked up by Kyungsoo earlier that day. It’s gross, and they might be in love, so Sehun doesn’t ask for details. 

But riding with Junmyeon means putting up with his strangely fast driving and even stranger taste in music. It jumps a couple of times, from pop to rap to alternative and then back to pop, but Sehun takes it all in stride. 

It’s dumb, but every time Sehun finds himself alone with Junmyeon, he’s afraid of awkward situations. His suspicions have been (for the most part) confirmed by now, and that might mean Junmyeon pretending to be normal and Sehun forcing conversation, but to Sehun’s surprise, none of it is necessary. Junmyeon asks Sehun about school, and Sehun asks Junmyeon about his family, and they pass through the drive in easy camaraderie. (There’s a reason why those suspicions exist to begin with, after all.)

But once at the party, Junmyeon ditches Sehun for conversation with Minseok, Luhan tucked prettily under his shoulder. Sehun would normally stay and talk, because when Luhan is there any party is guaranteed to become at least five times as wild, but it’s right as Sehun is greeting Jongdae at the door that his ears automatically tune into a voice that could only belong to Tao, piercing through the dun.

So. He doesn’t see Tao all week, but sees him at Jongdae’s party. It’s not the ideal place to have this Conversation, not by any means, but let it be said that Sehun is an opportunist, and a drunk Tao is a Tao with lower inhibitions who is more likely to say what he means. 

(The thing is, Sehun doesn’t drink. He can, of course, and he’s done it a few times, but the idea of losing his head and being out of control is so completely terrifying that he refuses to ever let himself take it that far.) 

“Come with me.” Sehun says, the minute he spots Tao lounging on the couch. He doesn’t know when he got so brave (or so strong), but he grabs Tao’s arm roughly and forces him towards the stairs, to Jongdae’s room. It’s too early in the party for anybody to be having sex there, he hopes, and Jongdae’s not using it yet, too caught up in hosting, so it’s the perfect spot to have a conversation. 

The sooner Sehun gets this over with, the better.

Thankfully, Sehun doesn’t see anyone he knows. He doesn’t know how to explain him, leading Tao by the arm towards an isolated room after they claimed they didn’t know each other very well. He doesn’t know how well that would go over with Junmyeon and Jongin, let alone Kris or Luhan. 

“What?” Tao asks, once seated on Jongdae’s bed. He looks tired and crabby, and upon closer look, at least halfway inebriated. Sehun, for a moment, wonders what the feeling is like, before remembering that it’s during situations like these that he should always remain in control. 

“We need to talk.” Sehun says, and spins Jongdae’s chair so that they’re facing each other when he sits down. 

Tao snorts and lies down, head on Jongdae’s pillow and feet hanging off the end of the bed. Jongdae is short. “I thought we already talked that other day. I didn’t think you’d want to talk to me anymore.” He faces the ceiling and plays with the edges of Jongdae’s blanket, uncaring.

There are a number of things Sehun had forgotten that he hated about conversations with Tao. Most of them are inane and meaningless, such as the fact that Sehun can never read Tao, or never knows with what meaning Tao is saying things. Sometimes he takes things the wrong way, which leads to misunderstandings, and sometimes Tao takes things the wrong way, which leads to anger and misguided hate, and Sehun doesn’t know why he’s decided to tackle this challenge with a drunk Tao but he’s already here, so he might as well go all for it. 

Some of these things actually mean something, though, like the fact that Tao blames everything slightly inconvenient on Sehun. His words imply that it’s Sehun who doesn’t want to talk to Tao, Sehun who just lets things go and doesn’t investigate further into them, Sehun who is the one running from his problems, and Sehun’s tired of being a pushover. 

“Is it really better to pretend like we were never friends?” Sehun asks, because he still can’t get over Tao’s voice in his head from all those years ago, asking him if they can try being friends again. 

“I thought it would be better. For both of us.”

“Does Kris know, at least?” 

Tao laughs. “Does he have any reason to know? We’re just friends, aren’t we?” 

Sehun breaks a little bit on the inside, but so much of him has been broken that he doesn’t even know what cracked. He’s been like this for a while, searching for something to help him glue all the little pieces of his heart back together. Everything’s muddled, and confusing, and Sehun wishes the world would stop and the noise in his ear would go away so that he can finally think. And breathe. 

“Are you saying that what we were meant nothing to you?” The words come slow, or at least they feel like they do, filled with anguish, but Tao hardly notices. 

“Like any of this means anything to you at all.” He sneers. “Did you tell your precious Junmyeon about it, then? About all the boys you dated in high school, one after the other, until you can hardly remember their names now?” 

The first time Tao broke Sehun’s heart, they weren’t even dating. Granted, it was Sehun’s mistake, the wrong words said, a joke that was never supposed to be taken seriously, but that memory still haunts Sehun to this day. It had taken a month for the two of them to become friends again, to find their groove together. It was the first time, but it hadn’t been the last time. 

This is at least the fifth time Tao has broken Sehun’s heart, but every time it seems to get more and more brutal. They said it gets better with time, that eventually all of this will stop hurting and Sehun will be allowed to live. 

“Junmyeon and I aren’t together.” Sehun says. They were wrong. “Not like you and Kris are.” 

Drunk Tao is, perhaps, more cruel than sober Tao. It was what Sehun wanted though, right? Honest thoughts so he can know exactly where he went wrong, exactly when everything fell apart to become nothing instead of everything. 

“You will be, though.” Tao mumbles to the ceiling, like it means nothing at all. “You two will get together and then you’ll get tired of him and break up. Like you did to everyone else.” 

“I didn’t break up with you because I was tired of you, I broke up with you because you asked me to.” 

Tao smiles bitterly. “Yeah. Which means, that at the end of the day, I cared about us more than you did.” 

Sehun can’t breathe. Don’t pretend like you didn’t mean the absolute world to me, he wants to say, but the words are gone and no longer in his mouth.

Sehun thinks of the hotel room they stayed at the night they broke up, of the message on his phone he still doesn’t have the courage to delete, the crying that he pretended to ignore. The crying Tao pretended to ignore, how he had laughed and asked if Sehun was really crying, or if he was laughing. 

He thinks of how much it had hurt, then, to be faced with this truth, and how much more it had hurt later, after his mistakes had come back to haunt him. 

Now it hurts just as much as it did then, which is a relief, because Sehun doesn't know how to tack on ‘heartless’ as another adjective for his life. He doesn’t know how many more times he can do this, even if ‘this’ is just the two of them, fighting for dominance once more over a stupid argument that has never gone away. Instead, everything feels a little bit numb and a little bit raw, like he’s just woken up or he’s just about to sleep. Blurry, soft around the edges, and maybe just a little bit unreal. 

“I cared a lot.” Sehun manages to rasp out, finally. Tao rolls over on his side and scoffs. He’s facing the wall, now, away from Sehun, which is good. Sehun has always found it easier to be honest when he can’t see how disappointed Tao is with him. 

“I’m sure you did.” 

“I just…” Sehun blinks back tears, which is dumb. All of this happened five years ago, this whole conversation is dumb. Why had he started it again in the first place? 

Maybe Tao was right. Sehun really doesn’t want to talk to him anymore. He should have stopped after their other Conversation, the one in the coffee shop. At least that way he wouldn’t be sitting in his boss’ little brother’s bedroom, talking to some dude he broke up with five years ago about how fucked up their relationship was. This whole thing is a little bit unhealthy, maybe. 

He’s not strong, and he’s not brave, and now he just wants to go home and sleep for at least two weeks. 

“I just want to know why you hate me.” This is why he does it, why he’s doing it, why he’s sitting here searching for an answer even after everything’s been closed off and locked up. 

Tao rolls over again, this time to face Sehun, and he was right– seeing Tao’s face makes everything much worse. Tao looks tired, like the alcohol is finally wearing off. He’s blinking sleepily, tears in his eyes, and Sehun is torn between wanting to brush them away and wanting to punch him in the face. 

“I don’t hate you anymore.” Tao says, almost innocently. He blinks again, and Sehun knows that the tears are only there because Tao is lying down and is probably super tired, but it doesn’t do anything to calm Sehun’s racing heart. He’s not nearly equipped enough to deal with this, he was wrong– he made a mistake and now he has to run. 

Sehun stands up and makes his way towards the door. Tao sits up in the bed, as fast as he can, most likely confused as to why Sehun’s leaving, but he really cannot stand to spend another minute in this stifling hell. 

“I never hated you at all.” Sehun says, breaking his own heart, before shutting the door behind him. 

\---

It’s maybe midnight by now, but it feels so much later and so much earlier all at the same time. There is no light outside the windows besides the artificial glow from the street lamps, smearing Sehun’s vision and making the world feel like nothing more than a dream. That seems to be a common theme, these days. 

Junmyeon meets Sehun at the bottom of the stairs. He’s gnawing at his lip, teeth shiny, and Sehun does not want to kiss him. 

“I saw you go up there with Tao.” Junmyeon says, and Sehun thinks he finally places the expression on Junmyeon’s face. Worry. “Is everything okay? Is he cheating on Kris with you?” 

Sehun wants to cry. He really, really, wants to cry. 

“No.” He says, and he doesn’t know which question he’s answering– maybe both. “I’m gonna leave now.” 

He makes his way towards the front door, grabbing his jacket, and it’s not until he’s nearly out the door that Junmyeon catches up with him and grabs his arm. 

“Wait.” He’s panting. Sehun’s not sure why. “Are you okay? You look drunk, did you drink? Can I drive you home?” 

Sehun would rather die than have Junmyeon see him cry, and being in a closed car with him would be the perfect opportunity to encounter the unwanted. The tears are close, unwilling yet near the surface, and it takes five years of steadfast control for Sehun to push them down again. 

“No.” Sehun says again, uncaring of how harsh it sounds. “I can take the bus.”

Junmyeon’s still worried, Sehun knows that, but he doesn’t care. He can’t care, not anymore, not when he’s walking away from the house, shoulders up and spine out, defensive and afraid. 

Junmyeon will get the message. Sehun will make it up to him later. 

Sehun cries on the bus back to campus, huge globs of tears that flow down his face and into his hands. He doesn’t know if people are staring, doesn’t want to know if people are staring, but he thinks it’s late enough that no one will think too much of it. Maybe, if he’s lucky, anyone who sees him will think it’s nothing more than a sleep-deprived hallucination. 

If he’s lucky. 

It’s raining, too, a drizzle that does nothing to conceal the downpour of tears on Sehun’s cheeks. He yanks the hood of his jacket over his head, but it doesn’t do much to block out the wind. 

Tao’s answer was not the answer he was looking for. It wasn’t much of an answer at all, really, yet it echoes in Sehun’s brain for the entirety of the bus ride. 

In face, it’s not until Sehun is tucking himself into bed that he understands why. At this point, he’s mostly stopped crying, and the last remnants of his tears are trickling down his face silently. His throat hurts, an ache that can only come from sobbing nonstop, and it makes Sehun sick to his core.

But of course, he thinks. Of course Tao doesn’t hate him anymore, they hadn’t seen each other in years. Tao has probably forgotten all the things he had said to Sehun back in high school, all the things he had said about Sehun to other people. He might not be as over it is as Sehun thought he was, but he’s no doubt grown up and moved on and finally become the bigger person. 

(Sometimes, in moments of weakness, Sehun will read the emails that were sent, back when they refused to talk face to face and resorted to online communication. He’ll read the letters Tao wrote, the notes he sent, and wonder where exactly he went wrong.)

(It’s no wonder Tao has moved on.) 

Sehun cries himself to sleep that night, and vows it to be the last time he cries over someone so undeserving.

\---

Of course, because Sehun is incapable of taking care of himself, the day after Jongdae’s birthday he finds himself sick with the flu. Part of him blames the rain, and the sore throat that he had chalked up to crying from the night before, but the other part of him buries itself in the corner of his bed and tells himself to go back to sleep and forget about all of this until the next day. 

Late afternoon is when Sehun wakes up again, and it’s to the buzzing of his cellphone and a hand running through his hair. Everything feels soft, like he’s in a dream, and he really doesn’t want it to end. Sehun’s missed most, if not all of his classes by now, but can’t feel the motivation to get out of bed and begin making up for them. 

When Sehun opens his eyes, it’s to a blurry Junmyeon, sitting in Sehun’s desk chair and using his spare hand (the one not combing softly through Sehun’s hair) to scroll through something on his phone. 

Sehun croaks. He means to ask ‘hello’, or perhaps ‘why are you here’, maybe even a ‘who let you in’, but Junmyeon stops him by bringing a glass of water with a straw within reaching distance. Sehun, because his throat is dry and he feels like throwing up, takes a sip. The water is blessedly cool against his damaged throat, so Sehun takes another. 

“Hello.” Junmyeon greets kindly. “Baekhyun let me in when he heard you throwing up yesterday.” 

Sehun hardly remembers throwing up, and he definitely doesn’t remember Baekhyun letting anyone into his dorm room. (Sometimes, he regrets giving Baekhyun that spare key.) The little Sehun does remember includes getting back to the dorm, crying, some getting up and feeling terrible in between, and a blur that shrouds the rest of his memories. 

It makes him thankful for Baekhyun, kind of, even if being alone with Junmyeon in a locked room is one of the last situations he’d ever want to end up in. Not because Junmyeon makes him uncomfortable in any way, but because Junmyeon is great and kind of his boss and Sehun just threw up what feels like the entirety of his stomach and the rest of his internal organs.

Sehun groans again, another attempt at speech, and he can see Junmyeon hide a laugh. It’s cute, kind of, but Sehun wishes he didn’t notice it at all. 

“Don’t try to talk. Drink more water.” Junmyeon is, somehow, even more kind and patient when Sehun is sick, which he didn’t think was possible. 

Is Junmyeon actually an angel? To be researched at a later date. 

So Sehun drinks, thankful for the straw and the relief it brings his strained neck, and once the water is gone, Junmyeon smiles another (unfairly cute) smile and adjusts Sehun’s pillows behind his head. 

“Sleep.” He says, so Sehun does.

“We’ll talk when you wake up in the morning,” Junmyeon says, sounding unbearably fond. Sehun thinks it’s more of an  _ if _ he wakes up the next morning, because he feels like death, but that’s okay. 

He wants to reply, maybe an affirmative, maybe hit Junmyeon for being so soft, but soon enough Sehun forgets what had happened at all, succumbing to the darkness of unconsciousness. 

\---

Junmyeon is not there when Sehun wakes up in the morning. 

In fact, Sehun doesn't see him for a whole three weeks afterwards. Junmyeon had texted him while he was sleeping, nothing more than a  _ will be gone on a business trip,  _ and going to the office provides Sehun and Jongin with nothing but free (fast) wifi and a quiet morning. 

Any and all attempts at reaching Junmyeon thereafter are denied and unsuccessful. Which is strange, of course, because Junmyeon is never unreachable. Even when he’s extremely busy and buried to his neck in business work, he always makes time for Sehun, if not both Sehun and Jongin.

Sehun wonders, for a moment, if he did something wrong that day he was sick, if he said something he didn’t mean to say or implied something that he didn’t mean for Junmyeon to know. He thinks about his suspicions, and Junmyeon’s uncharacteristic silence, and if this all means that Junmyeon is Done and Finished and that Sehun’s last chance at having anything has been squashed before there was even anything to begin with. 

But sooner or later, a week or two into Junmyeon’s absence, Sehun gets caught up in the life of a student once more. Not having work in the morning means more time for studying, which means more time for rehearsing, and the theater building seems to become his new home. Midterms come around and kick Sehun’s ass, and soon enough, it’s all Sehun can do to hop from the library to the performing arts building when necessary before immediately hopping back, food and sleep be damned. 

He does take time, though, to stop and text Yixing on his birthday. He wasn’t lying to Tao when he said that he reconnected with Yixing the year previous, and although the two of them aren’t exactly close, they were once close enough to be almost be considered best friends.

_ Happy birthday. _ Sehun sends through Line sometime after midnight in China (international text messages can suck his ass), before promptly forgetting about it in favor of art history. 

_ Thanks. _ The reply comes five minutes later, and despite it being nearly two in the morning, Sehun laughs. 

He doesn’t laugh for long, though, because the next text that comes through is enough to make Sehun forget how to breathe again. (He seems to be doing that a lot lately.)

_ You guys should fix it. Whatever happened at the party. You and Tao. _

The sentences are short and a little bit choppy, but Yixing’s first language (and stronger language) is Chinese, so Sehun doesn't think much of the phrasing at all. What does chill him to his core, though, is the underlying message beneath the short words and even shorter sentences. 

Fix it. Whatever you fucked up, fix it before it’s too late.

_ I’m trying. _ Sehun sends back, because that’s what he’s been doing. Trying. If it sounds a little bit whiny, he can’t be blamed– right?

Yixing is prompt with his replies.  _ Try harder. _

_ I can’t do anything if he refuses to see me. _

_ Why are you waiting for him to come to you? Why not go to him instead and sort things out that way? _

Yixing is nothing but insistent, and a good friend, but the longer the exchange goes on, the more Sehun remembers why he hates talking to Yixing. Yixing is nice, and kind, and has good advice for Sehun’s problems, but he loves friends too much and will always do what it takes to defend the people he loves. Normally, in most cases, Sehun would agree with Yixing. But here and now, after he’s chased down Tao and done his best to have the Conversation they need to have, hearing from Yixing that he’s the one who needs to take charge and fix things is the last thing he wants to hear.

Granted, having the conversation while one party was drunk and the other high on false adrenaline was probably not the best idea, but Sehun can’t be blamed for that either.

Yixing loves Tao most, and at the end of the day, Sehun needs to remember that. He may like Sehun, and may have listened to all his problems in high school and given good advice, but when everything’s been said and done, he’ll always go back to defending Tao, because he’s loyal and kind. 

Sehun learned this the hard way, all those years ago. He’s an idiot for forgetting it now. 

_ Because I chased him down last time, so now it’s his turn. _ Sehun, sometimes, likes to pretend that he isn’t completely angry with the world and with his situation. He wonders if Yixing can feel the heat behind his words, or if it’s been covered up by the language barrier and the electronic communication. 

At least he isn’t cursing Yixing out, not like he did when he was an angsty teen just trying to sort out his emotions like all angsty teens do.

_ If you say so. _ Yixing replies. It does nothing to make Sehun feel better. 

He wonders, for a moment, how they got here; from Sehun wishing and old friend happy birthday to being reminded of all the things he thought he left behind when he went to university. 

\---

Junmyeon returns with not a bang, nor a spark, but instead breaking into Sehun’s dorm room while he’s studying. 

“Hello.” He says, opening the door, and Sehun jumps out of his skin. 

“What the fuck.” He nearly screams. “Don’t fucking do that.” 

“Sorry.” Junmyeon smiles sheepishly. Sehun wants to smile with him, because Junmyeon’s smile is infectious, but he doesn’t, because fuck. That scared him. 

Sehun narrows his eyes. “How did you get in here in the first place? You aren’t a student.” 

Junmyeon scratches the back of his head and blurts out his answer in one breath. “Baekhyun swiped me into the residence hall, and I still have his key to your room from when you were sick, so he abandoned me once I was in and went to Chanyeol’s house.” Junmyeon scrunches his brow. “They might be dating. I’m not sure.” 

Sehun doesn’t laugh, but it’s close. “No one’s dating Baekhyun, that kid’s too much of a mystery to make a good boyfriend.” 

Junmyeon raises one eyebrow. “Kid? Isn’t he older than you?” 

Sehun shrugs, because even after knowing everyone for so long, he still doesn’t remember when all of their birthdays are. “Probably,” He says, nonchalantly, “But I’m graduating at the same time as him, and since he calls me a kid, I’ve deemed it okay to call him kid back.” 

Junmyeon stares at Sehun for a moment before nodding like it all makes sense. Sehun loves Junmyeon. (Not in that way, though. Just to be clear.)

“Anyways,” Junmyeon says, toeing off his shoes the way all responsible adults do. “Tell me about what happened at the party, and why you were alone in a private room with Kris’ new boyfriend. Now that you aren’t sick, of course.” 

He doesn’t seem mad, but it’s hard to tell with Junmyeon. He’s the type of person who spends more time being disappointed than mad, but Sehun would rather die than have Junmyeon pull his ‘I’m so disappointed in you’ face on him. 

“Do we have to talk about this?” Sehun asks, scrunching up his eyebrows in distaste. It comes out more of a complaint than anything, he’s pretty sure, but Junmyeon is hiding a smile, so it seems to be okay. 

“Yes.” 

“It’s complicated.” Sehun replies. It sounds like an excuse, but that’s fine too. “He’s kind of mad at me.” 

“Okay.” Junmyeon says, and crosses the room to sit cross-legged on Sehun’s bed. He really wishes this didn’t feel like an intervention of some sort, or the Conversation That He Needs To Have With Tao But For Some Reason Is Having With Junmyeon, because he doesn’t really know how to deal with people meaning well for him, but Junmyeon is already wiggling his toes in comfort so yeah– it’s an intervention. 

“Why is he mad at you?” He asks, seemingly innocent. Sehun knows Junmyeon well, though. When it comes down to it, very little about him is innocent. “Is it something you did? Is it something he did?” 

Sehun scoffs. “Why does it matter?” Both, maybe.

Junmyeon shrugs, playing with the bottom of his socked feet. It’s not cute. (Sehun is tired of how many things Junmyeon does that he finds not cute.)

He feels bad though, because it’s a shitty thing to say for someone who is just trying to help. Junmyeon is (probably) be trying to date him, fuck knows why, so Sehun ought to suck it up and learn how to admit his feelings to someone who definitely probably most likely won’t judge. 

“It’s because I didn’t love him enough.” He replies, which makes no sense out of context. Even with context it’s a rough summary, and one that doesn’t fit, really, because Sehun loved him more than anything.

“I don’t get it.” Junmyeon says, asks, ever so polite. “What do you mean you don’t love him?” 

Sehun thinks of the apocalypse, and how no one knows that it happened, and thinks that maybe there should be rules that stop people from speaking of the apocalypse now that it is over. There aren’t rules, though, and while Tao may not have told Kris about what happened five years ago, Sehun feels the undeniable urge to tell Junmyeon. 

So he does. 

“Tao was lying when he said we didn’t know each other well.” Junmyeon is listening, rapt, and Sehun feels sick. 

Still, he persists. (He has to.)

“We were best friends in our first year of high school, two young boys who just wanted to dance. At some point we started dating, and it was a really shitty relationship. He did this thing where he would take note of all the things I did that he didn’t like and then explode, once every few months. We got into a bunch of fights like that, and then made up, and then fought again, and eventually we got so tired of it that we broke up and decided to go back to being best friends.” Sehun feels like throwing up. It feels awful to condense everything he had with Tao into a few short sentences, and even worse to say them to someone who has no idea any of it happened at all.

Junmyeon is quiet for a while, absorbing what is, no doubt, a shitton of information in a few short sentences. 

“Okay.” He says. “You aren’t friends anymore, though?” 

“No.” Sehun agrees. “At some point, our last year of high school maybe, Tao started hating me again, and I went along with it, and we stopped talking and went our separate ways. We were just kids, it was bound to happen sooner or later anyways.” 

“Okay.” Junmyeon says again, and this time looks a little bit sad. “So why did you break up with him? Why wasn’t it him that broke up with you?”

Sehun pauses for a moment, considers his options. He could say Tao’s point of view, of course, that Sehun didn’t love Tao enough to keep him, of he could reply and say that no, it was mutual, or– 

“He was tearing me apart.” The words are achingly slow. Everything was tearing him apart, back then, so it’s hard to place what it actually was. When Sehun thinks about it, though, and really considers everything, it comes back to exactly what he doesn’t want it to be– Tao had torn him apart, and had done it so thoroughly that Sehun is still afraid of basic human contact, five years after the breakup, four years after the last time he had seen Tao’s face.

“Do you really think love had anything to do with it?” Junmyeon sounds innocent yet kind, leaning forward a little bit, eyes bright. Sehun does not cry. 

“... No. Maybe not.” 

They’re not his words, or at least they don’t feel like his, but they’re the truth– aren’t they? 

Because at the end of the day, when everything has been said and done, they’re relationship never hinged on them being in love. It was more about the security of being with someone, the comfort of being with someone you know well. None of that was ever really about love. 

In fact, if Sehun really thinks about it, the only place where love actually comes into play is when they had already split apart, when Sehun broke up with Tao. It was then that the love they had for one another turned into something angrier, something more bitter, something that had torn Sehun apart and made him  _ ache. _

“He told me he doesn’t hate me anymore, and I told him that I never hated him.” Sehun tells Junmyeon. He looks up from where he was staring at the floor, and finds himself making eye contact with Junmyeon. Something inside of him tells him that he has to say this. 

“But him hating me…” Junmyeon nods encouragingly when he stops here. His voice is dry and broken. “Him hating me made me hate myself.” 

Junmyeon exhales heavily, but Sehun doesn’t stop. “It’s weird, right? He was so angry at me and I loved him so much that I started to take the things he hated about me and hate them too. It made me doubt myself, and rethink everything I was doing, and at the end of high school I was so filled with anxiety that it made me want to die.” 

Junmyeon looks so unbearably sad when Sehun says this that it makes Sehun feel sick. It was the same feeling he had felt, when he was sick and Junmyeon was here, in his dorm, taking care of him. There’s a lurching in his stomach and his head hurts, and all of a sudden the room is too hot, even though it’s nearly winter. 

“It’s the same anxiety that made me quit dancing.” Sehun continues, quieter. Junmyeon leans forward, either in comfort or anticipation, Sehun doesn’t know. “If I couldn’t be enough for the person I loved more than anything, how could I be enough for the activity I loved even more?” 

“Why don’t you hate him, then?” Junmyeon asks, and it is not at all what Sehun thought he was going to ask. “If all the things he said and did made you hate yourself, why did you never hate him for saying them in the first place?” 

Sehun twists his fingers together uncomfortably. The sting brings him back to the present, reminds him that he is here and having a very important conversation. 

“How could I?” To Sehun, back when all of this was happening and fresh in his brain, hating Tao was unthinkable. Now that he’s in the future, now that he’s five years past it and somewhat able to see things clearly, the dependence and fixation he had for Tao shines clear as day. 

“He was my best friend.” Sehun says. He hasn’t had a best friend since the day they broke up. 

Junmyeon must understand, or at least feel the weight behind Sehun’s words, because he does nothing but nod and look down at his socked feet. 

Sehun wishes he could change the conversation, or something, because all of this is hitting a little bit too close to home. This conversation is barely one that he wants to have with Tao, let alone with someone who has a crush on him. 

Maybe it’s practice, for the day Sehun has to sit down in front of Tao and bare his soul to someone who no longer cares.

Thankfully, or maybe not, the conversation is changed quickly when Sehun’s phone vibrates from its place on his desk. Sehun swivels his chair quickly to look at the message, relieved and eager for a reprieve from the depressive mood. 

Unfortunately, it’s a message from Yixing, asking him if he’s fixed things with Tao yet. To make matters worse, with Junmyeon’s close proximity to Sehun and his desk, he too sees the message and knows that Sehun is in contact with Yixing. 

“Are the two of you friends, too?” He asks, and Sehun admires Junmyeon’s ability to stay calm in the face of adversary. Sehun’s insides are screaming at him to run now. “It would make sense, since Tao and Yixing know each other and Luhan and Yixing know each other.” 

“Yeah, we’re friends.” Sehun says, and clears the notification. He doesn’t want to talk to Yixing right now. Or ever, preferably. 

Junmyeon frowns. “That doesn’t look like the facial expression of someone who just got a text from a friend.” Sehun knows that Junmyeon is goading him, tempting him into sharing more of his locked backstory, and while a part of Sehun wants to leave the room and hide in Jongin’s apartment, the other part of him wants to tell someone all the little things that have been bothering him about this strange high school reunion that’s been occurring.

“We’re friends.” Sehun says, giving in to the other part of him. “But he’s screwed me over a couple of times, so I don’t know if i necessarily trust him with the amount of trust required to be friends.” 

Sehun sees the words on Junmyeon’s lips, the ‘how?’ ready and active, but he’s already continuing. This is what Junmyeon wanted, right? So he might as well go all for it. 

“Once, when Tao and I were fighting, before we were officially dating, Yixing Luhan and I were at a party with a bunch of other dancers. Tao couldn’t make it that night, for one reason or another.” The story is a little bit petty, but Sehun tries his to make it seem not-as-such. He doesn’t think he succeeds. “I was feeling pretty shitty, of course, because I was in a fight with my best friend. Luhan was feeling shitty, because he was caught between two people arguing.” Sehun feels bad, because Luhan must have felt Very Shitty throughout all the years Sehun and Tao were in high school together. 

“Go on.” Junmyeon says, when Sehun pauses to breathe. Sehun snorts, because now that he’s been started, there’s no way he’s gonna stop now. 

“I don’t know how Yixing was feeling, but he must not have been feeling great. Sometime during the party, he comes up to me and tells me that Tao is feeling shitty, and that I should do something to fix what I messed up.” Sehun looks up at his ceiling when he says this, because he still feels betrayed and doesn't want to cry over something that happened more than six years ago. 

Junmyeon makes a noise, a humming noise, but it’s clear he doesn’t understand, so Sehun glares as sharply as he can at Junmyeon and his stupid perfect eyes. 

“He saw me crying, once, because I said the wrong thing to Tao and Tao told me he didn’t know how he could be friends with me anymore.” It’s stupid high school drama, made less (or more, depending on the point of view) stupid by the fact that Sehun was desperately head over heels in love. “And then he turns around and tells be that I have to be the one to fix things, that Tao is the one torn up over it and I’m the one who fucked up.” 

“So you’re mad because he took sides during the argument.” Junmyeon says, no doubt trying to piece things together in his head. 

Sehun shakes his head violently. “No, it’s natural to take sides with people during arguments, even if you know both sides well. I’m mad because he knew that I was feeling just as bad as Tao was and still decided that it was his place to try and fix things in argument that had nothing to do with him.” 

Junmyeon tilts his head slightly in confusion. “You said that both he and Luhan were caught between the two of you when you fought. Did that not make it his business?” 

“Luhan never did any of that, though.” Sehun argues, scowling. “He minded his own business and listened to both Tao and I when we argued but never made any attempt to tell us what to do. He knew that it was between the two of us, and let us sort things out by ourselves.” 

Junmyeon nods. “I think I get it.” He says. Sehun doesn't know if he trusts that.

“I’m not saying Yixing is a bad person.” Sehun clarifies, because he really doesn't. Yixing is a person who loves friends and loves Tao most of all, and that’s just how it works. “I’m just saying that we have some shitty history, and I don’t know if I trust him enough to not have that shitty history repeated.” 

Junmyeon nods again, this time in understanding. “It seems like you have shitty history with nearly everyone you went to high school with, that they all did you wrong in some way.” Sehun laughs, because it’s mostly true, and laughing seems like a good way to get Over It. 

Junmyeon takes a deep breath, though, and the mood of the room changes from something less fiery and more somber. 

“I know you’re doing you’re best to justify the actions made by those who hurt you in the past because you’re a good person and that’s what you do.” Junmyeon starts, and Sehun takes a breath to reply because no– no, he’s really not a good person, he’s done just as bad to Tao and Yixing as they have done to him and–

“You’re a good person, but after what you’ve told me about them, I’m not very intent on befriending them, so you don’t have to try and justify their actions to me.” Junmyeon interrupts Sehun’s train of thought easily, with nothing more than a sentence.

He had no reason to say that. He had no reason to say that other than to try and make Sehun feel better about this awful dump of emotions and that in itself makes Sehun so incredibly  _ angry.  _ All of a sudden Sehun can’t breathe, because who gives him the right to be so considerate? He’s nice and cute and thoughtful and basically perfect, and ice is running through Sehun’s veins because he  _ hates _ Junmyeon more than he’s ever hated someone in the entire universe. 

“I think you should go.” Sehun says. He’s totally not panicking. “Please leave the key– my key– the key Baekhyun gave you– on my desk.” 

Junmyeon stares for a moment, eyes seeing more than Sehun wants to show him, and it hurts. He’s cut open and bare in front of someone who didn’t really know him before this and it makes him want to hide. 

So he does. 

“Okay.” Junmyeon says, sounding somewhere between upset and understanding. “Please text me if you want to talk.” 

He leaves with nothing more than a final pointed look at Sehun and the clink of a key against wood. 

A second after the door closes, Sehun abandons his desk chair for the bed. He can smell the remnants of Junmyeon’s cologne, which is stupid, because Junmyeon only sat on the bed for a few minutes. Sehun knows he’s deluding himself, that his brain is lying to him, but when he breathes in deep, he swears it’s like Junmyeon’s still there with him. 

Unwilling, a few tears fall from his eyes. It’s okay, he tells himself, because Junmyeon is more deserving than anyone could ever be. 

\---

Sehun makes the ultimate decision to cut off contact with Junmyeon. It’ll hurt too much if he has to reject him in person, so it would just be easier to drift apart the way people do sometimes. Very adult. 

He tries to convince himself that he’s not running away, but Junmyeon knows too much and is perfect, so he kind of is. Sehun’s sure that if he tried hard enough he’d be able to justify his decision to himself, but there’s a part of him screaming at him to stop, and nothing quite makes sense anymore. 

He doesn’t know what to do. Everyday is filled with anxiety, anxiety that Sehun thought was long gone, and he’s torn between the urge to text Junmyeon and explain himself and the urge to travel to the mountains and hide there for the rest of his life. 

His ultimate decision, the decision to avoid Junmyeon, makes work hard. Junmyeon is nothing but patient, however, and he too respects Sehun’s unvoiced wishes and avoids spending large amounts of time with the interns. 

“Is there any reason why Junmyeon hasn’t been coming around to monitor our progress?” Jongin asks Sehun pointedly one morning, finger quoting his last few words. Sehun ignores him completely, retrieves his coffee from the drink carrier in Jongin’s hands, and turns back to his computer. 

Jongin goes specifically to Junmyeon’s office to deliver him his drink, and Sehun does not think about how long it has been since he’s seen Junmyeon’s face. 

School is awful, too, because it’s that time of year where everyone is stressed, completing their last minute projects and cramming from tests. He spends most of his time in the library, now, because his single room is too lonely and quiet, and the theater is full of sociable people who don’t stress academia. Sehun does not think about Junmyeon. 

He even manages to convince himself that he’s hallucinating when he sees Tao on campus, somewhere between the library and his dorm at sometime around midnight. There’s no way that it can be Tao, of course, no matter how much it may look like it, because Tao knew what school Sehun was going to and would never (ever) make the choice to go to the same one. So it doesn't make sense. Nothing makes sense.

Sehun watches “Tao’s” back as he walks away and convinces himself that it’s a trick of the eyes, that it’s someone else. He can barely keep himself sane already, there’s no need to add a mysterious Tao-like figure to the equation. 

\---

Everything is fine. It’s okay that nothing makes sense, because that’s just what Sehun is accustomed to now. Nothing makes sense, just like a text message from Kris asking to meet up, because that definitely makes no sense. 

Sehun wonders if he should be worried. Kris, in his purest form, in his original state, is Junmyeon’s friend– and after that talk with Junmyeon, who knows what Kris might have in store for Sehun. 

Still, he agrees to meet up. The most Kris can do is yell at Sehun for breaking Junmyeon’s heart. After all, it’s been almost a week since that awful talk with Junmyeon, and if Kris was going to castrate Sehun he probably would have done it sooner. 

They meet at Tao’s coffee shop, which Sehun finds slightly romantic and kinda poetic and very much annoying. Tao is working when Sehun arrives, so he orders quickly and takes his drink outside. It’s very awkward, and Sehun somehow finds the strength to admit to himself that he’s a little disappointed at how shy Tao is being. He had expected an argument, volatile words thrown, maybe even some punches. 

All in all, Tao’s reaction is a little bit lame. 

When Kris shows up, twenty minutes after their agreed upon meet up time, Sehun’s halfway through his now cold drink. Kris, because he’s not a complete asshole, buys Sehun a second drink. 

“I asked Tao what you ordered and just got a second one of that.” He says, placing the drink in front of Sehun before sitting down across from him. “I’m guessing he still hasn’t talked to you, huh.” 

“He hasn’t.” Sehun says. “I gotta admit, I’m a little surprised.”

“I’m not.” Kris shoots back, quickly. “Tao has never been good at asking for what he wants.” 

Which is weird, because Sehun distinctly remembers Tao listing all the things he had found wrong with Sehun, one after the other, a bulleted list saved to the notes app on his phone. Tao had been full of requests back in high school, demands that had to be met in order to avoid a meltdown. 

But, then again, Sehun also remembers how hesitant he had been when Sehun had asked him out. How shy he had been, those rare nights where they actually talked about their feelings in hope of avoiding another fight. Tao  _ had _ been hesitant, then, always afraid of saying the wrong thing. Tao had a million faces, ones for his family and his friends and for strangers, but that face had been one of Sehun’s favorites. 

Maybe Kris does have a point after all.

“Tao told me what happened.” Kris informs Sehun, seemingly satisfied with Sehun’s understanding. 

“At the party?” 

“And in high school.” Kris replies confidently, not missing a beat. Sehun burrows in on himself a little bit. 

“So you know what he thinks of me.” He replies. “Did you want to meet up with me so you could see if all his accusations were true?” 

Kris shakes his head sadly. “He doesn’t hate you anymore, Sehun.” 

Sehun wants to laugh. He scoffs instead. “He told me that at the party, but I don’t believe it.” It’s hard to remove Tao’s face from his mind, how his eyes would squint just a tiny little bit, and his voice would come out sharper and more piercing than before. 

“I was wondering about that, actually.” Kris takes a sip of his drink. “I don’t know why you thought it would be a good idea to approach him when he was drunk and at a party. It seems a little bit counterproductive.”

Sehun shrugs. When he looks back on it, yeah, it does seem inappropriate, but he was desperate and overcome with a rare bout of courage. It wasn’t the smartest move that was ever made, but it was a move that was made, and now the two of them must deal with the consequences.

“I’m guessing he still hasn’t talked to you about it yet?” Kris gestures with his head towards the inside of the coffee shop, where Tao is wiping down tables. Sehun does his best not to stare. 

“No.” He confirms, quietly, and distracts himself from the conversation with his drink. 

Kris nods, as though he expected this answer. “That’s what I thought.” He says. 

They’re quiet for a little bit longer, and then a little bit longer after that, and at some point Sehun is nearly done with his second drink and wonders if Kris asked to speak with him just so he could ask if Tao has spoken about what happened at the party, which, upon second thought, makes absolutely no sense at all. 

“He’ll approach you sometime soon, probably. It’s in both of your best interests to finally sort things out between the two of you.” 

Great. Just what Sehun wanted. A third try at this Conversation. 

“We’ve already tried twice.” Sehun’s more than a little bit annoyed. “Who’s to say that the third try won’t be just as pathetic?” 

“Pathetic?” Kris raises an eyebrow. Sehun nods, determined. Pathetic. 

“The first time you let Tao take control of the conversation and didn’t fight back. The second time Tao was unable to fight back. The third time will be better because you’ll both know what to expect.” 

Sehun winces, even though everything Kris is saying is true. He’s never been great at standing up for himself in general, and even worse at it when faced with an adversary like Tao, but the desire to put his high school self to rest is more powerful than any other force he’s felt in a while.

“Believe me.” Kris says, softening a little. “Tao wants to discuss all of this just as much as you do.” 

“Get this over with, more like.” Sehun snorts, because, if he’s being honest, everything that’s happened with Tao is just something that Sehun wants to move on from. 

“I don’t know if I would say that.” Kris says, and he sounds a little bit strict, if not weary. “I think you underestimate how much he cares about you, and how much he wants all of this between the two of you to at least come close to being solved.” 

Sehun laughs, and it comes out condescending and haughty. He doesn’t mean it, not really, because he knows Kris is just trying to help, but there’s a darkness somewhere inside of him that rears its head whenever Tao’s name is mentioned, and having this conversation with Tao’s new boyfriend outside of the coffee shop Tao works at is really just taking the cake. 

“You keep saying it’s between the two of us, so why are you here talking to me about it? Why isn’t he the one sitting out here with me, actually trying to make things better before they get any worse?” Their first talk didn’t count, at least to Sehun, but based on Kris’ facial expression it must not count to him either. 

“I’m here because I want to talk to the guy who broke Tao’s heart.” Kris says, and it has none of the conceit that Sehun’s previous statements had. “As his current boyfriend, I want to get to know the person who broke his heart so I know exactly what not to do in our relationship.” 

Sehun hardly blinks at that, and prides himself in keeping a blank expression while his heart breaks once more, just another piece chipping off in the aftermath of the apocalypse. He feels less superior now, less like he matters and more like he’s being chastised. 

“It’s weird.” He says, and threads his fingers through the holes in the metal table. “I suppose on some level I knew, but it’s weird hearing that I broke his heart.” 

“Are you trying to prove to me that you’re heartless right now? Because that’s kinda what it’s starting to sound like.” 

Sehun laughs, a genuine laugh this time. “I don’t know what to say.” He says, ironically. “I’ve been thinking about everything that’s passed for so long I forgot that Tao might have been falling apart just as I was.” 

Kris pauses, and it’s a visible pause, something that has Sehun’s fingers turning white in between the strips of metal soldered together. 

“You’re not as over it as you pretend you are, are you?” And Sehun would laugh again, but he thinks he’s done enough of that already. He doesn’t know if a day has passed where he was truly honestly Over It, but maybe his pretending hasn’t failed as miserably as he thought it has. 

“No.” He says honestly. “But is he?” 

It’s a question that Sehun wants answered more than anything, a question that will make or break the rest of his life. 

Kris smiles. “No.” The line between over it and obsessive seems to have ceased to exist.

He’s not as relieved as he thought he would be, all things considered. It’s good to know that they’re both still on the same level, him and Tao, but it hurts to know that Tao hasn’t forgotten about everything that’s happened. Sehun was hoping, maybe, that after all the wreckage burning between them that at least one side would have recovered. 

“Tao changed my life in high school.” Sehun says, even though he doesn't really have to explain himself. Carefully, he unweaves his fingers from the metal. His hands stay white for a moment before turning red, and slowly back to flesh color. 

“You changed his, too.” It sounds almost like an accusation.

Sehun nods. “Yeah but he really really changed mine.” He doesn't really know how to describe it, how meeting and getting to know Tao had changed some very vital part of his core. He knows that high school is supposed to be the time where people start discovering who they are, but this feels like something more. Something deeper. 

“I used to–” Sehun cuts himself off, laughing. Kris doesn’t interrupt, so Sehun swallows it down and continues his story. He still doesn’t know why he’s telling Kris any of this, but maybe he’ll pass it on to Tao, and Sehun can finally stop feeling like he’s being left behind by everyone he knows. 

“I used to hide pretty much every facet of who I am.” Sehun says, and stares directly into Kris’ eyes. He wants Kris to know just how serious he is. “I could barely admit to myself that I was gay, let alone anyone I was trying to date.” 

“Did Tao change that?” Kris asks, and raises his eyebrow once more. It’s very effective. 

Sehun snorts. “He didn’t just change that, he changed everything. I came out to my parents because of him, to my friends. I became more confident, more willing to speak up and say what I want.”

He softens, maybe just a little bit. “I don’t go home anymore, because of Tao. Junmyeon gave me a job because I need it to pay my tuition, to pay back my loans. I don’t have parents waiting for me to come home, it’s just me and my friends here.” 

“Because of Tao.” Kris says, face unnaturally still. 

Sehun nods. “Tao made me scared. He made me lonely. He made me hate parts of myself that no one else saw except for him. I didn’t know how to act around him, and he always made me feel like I was stupid or lesser than him.” 

“I didn’t invite you here to insult my boyfriend.” Kris says. Now he looks angry. 

“I know.” Sehun replies, riding the wave of his words. He’s getting left behind again. “But I’m not trying to insult him, I’m trying to tell you that Tao changed my life in ways I don’t think anything else could have.” 

Kris blinks once, and then twice, calm all the while. “I’m pretty sure you could have found someone else, and fallen in love with them, and maybe the exact same things would have happened.” 

Sehun shrugs. “It didn’t though.” 

He leans forward suddenly, the cold metal of the table pressing into his belly, and grips his chair until his fingers turn white once more. 

“I met Tao and loved him and we ruined each other. You’re here, interrogating me, because you don’t want to make the same mistakes I did. I’m sitting here, answering your questions, to make sure that someone else doesn’t end up like me.” 

Kris swallows. “You really think he could ruin my life like you say he ruined yours?” 

Sehun shakes his head. “Tao didn’t ruin anything.” He insists, even though nothing really makes sense anymore. “He changed it. Changed it all, but nothing was ruined.” 

“Do you blame him?” Kris asks. “It doesn’t really seem like you do.” 

“No.” Sehun shakes his head again. “I never hated him. Even after everything that happened– especially after everything that happened, I don’t think I can hate him.” 

Kris rips the sleeve off his cup and crumples it in his hand. If it’s meant to be intimidating it works, and Sehun takes the hint and leans back once more, until his back hits the chair and his hands are free. 

“Do I have to worry about you?” Kris asks, looking completely serious. “I didn’t think I would, when I asked to meet with you, but I might have been wrong.”

Kris is completely serious, and maybe a little bit in love, so Sehun does him the honor of being just as serious, and considers the question as genuinely as he can. Sehun had long ago let go of the idea of ever getting back together with Tao, but being asked that forgotten question in the present brings the entire issue back to light. 

“Tao, above all else, broke my trust.” Sehun says slowly. “We were in high school and we both made mistakes, but the mistakes had great consequences and he broke my trust. I would like to be friends with him, to be able to catch up with each other and get to know this new university version of him, but I don’t know if I can ever truly get back to that point with him.” 

Kris accepts his reply with a nod, and a weight in Sehun’s stomach drops away. Maybe he’s not getting left behind after all. 

“I wanted to hate you, but you’re acting a lot more mature than I thought you would.” Kris says, laughing a little bit to himself. 

Sehun chuckles along, and makes a stab at a joke. “It’s the coffee.” He says. “You bought me another cup of it, after all.” 

“Coffee makes you brave?” Kris asks, playing along. “I’ll keep that in mind the next time I have to interrogate my boyfriend’s ex.” 

Sehun continues smiling. “Next time? I thought I was the only one.” He pouts cutely, and it sends Kris into another burst of laughter. Sehun supposes he’s not so bad after all, especially when he’s laughing at Sehun’s joke. 

“Are you guys done talking about me behind my back?” Tao asks, and Sehun chokes on his laugh. He had forgotten that Tao was even in the vicinity, and hadn’t noticed the other boy leaving the safe confines of the inside of the shop for the great outdoors. 

He looks a little bit mad, a little bit angry, and even though Sehun is very much on his way to getting Over It, he can’t help but see Tao’s face in his mind from four years ago. It had been the same facial expression, then, eyes purposely flat, mouth twisted just that little bit, nose flaring in solemnity. 

_ Does it look like I’m angry? _

“Definitely not.” Kris’ voice shakes Sehun out of his stupor. “We have three more dates set up, all just to talk about you.” Sehun turns, wide eyed, to stare at Kris. Is he crazy, talking back to Tao like that? 

But Tao is smiling, and it’s actually really cute. He pushes Kris’ shoulder in false anger, and it looks like Tao. 

It looks like something Tao would do. Not Tao when Sehun first met him, scared and innocent, and not Tao when Sehun said goodbye in high school, angry and bitter. This Tao in front of him looks like the Tao Sehun fell in love with, and it twists something in Sehun’s heart. 

Not in the way he thought it would, though. Because Kris is smiling, and pushing Tao back, and Tao is sitting on Kris’ lap, propriety at his workplace be damned, and even though Sehun and Tao still haven’t fixed what needs to be fixed, they’re at a truce, kinda, because Tao is in love and so is Kris and so was Sehun, all at once. 

\---

Sehun has taken to turning his phone on silent, regardless of where he is. 

Not because he gets a mass number of messages, because the only people who text him these days are Luhan and Jongin,  but simply because he hates looking at how quiet it is. He hates the silence from Junmyeon, how he’s intent on giving Sehun space, and it’s altogether much too kind and gentlemanly for Sehun to handle. He wishes that Junmyeon were less refined, that he would cry and scream and yell, that he would overload Sehun’s phone with texts and calls. That would be better than this waiting. Anything would be better than this waiting, even if he’s not really waiting.

“You could call him first, y’know.” Chanyeol says, calling just to catch up. He had to call a few times before Sehun realized that someone was actually attempting to contact him, since his phone doesn’t vibrate or make sound anymore. “That’s probably what he’s waiting for.” 

But he can’t, not really. Sehun made a promise to himself after all, a promise to cut off contact and move on from whatever mess they had gotten themselves into to begin with. 

“I could.” He agrees, to put the conversation at rest, and that is that. 

Jongin is worried, even if he doesn’t show it. Sehun is normally a reclusive person, preferring to spend time on his own rather than with other people, but even someone as oblivious as Jongin is able to notice that this sort of isolationism isn’t normal for his coworker. 

He doesn’t say a word to Sehun about it, though, and Sehun doesn’t mention a thing, so when all is said and done, Sehun can almost convince himself that everything is fine. 

\---

“The number of times people told me to sort things out with you almost outnumbers the number of people I know.” Tao calls Sehun. 

Sehun laughs. “I wish I could say the same.” He says, because really, no one besides Kris has said much to him, everyone else understanding his need to sort things out on his own first, in his own head. 

“Must be nice.” Tao says flippantly. It sounds a little bit bitter, but Sehun thinks he can let it slide just this once. “When are you free?” 

Sehun looks down at his desk, at the books and assignments that have been slowly piling up over time. “Now?”

“Okay.” If Tao notices the hesitance in Sehun’s voice, it goes unquestioned. “I’m not working right now, so I can meet you somewhere on campus if you want.” 

It’s a hint that Tao is actually going to the same school as him, that he’s probably enrolled in the same program Baekhyun is, that he came back to China to go to the same school as Sehun. It’s the perfect opportunity for Sehun to ask why, to leech these secrets from him one by one, before he realizes that no, he doesn’t actually need to know. 

“There are benches in the main courtyard.” It’s cold out, but being outdoors sounds leagues better than being stuck in the same room as Tao. “Meet you there in thirty?” 

Of the thirty minutes Sehun gives himself, twenty five of them are spent psyching him up for this meeting. He won’t fall for Tao’s tricks this time, he’ll stay on his course and won’t take advantage of Tao either. They’ll do this cleanly, and fairly, and everything will be okay by the end of it. 

When he gets to the main courtyard, exactly thirty minutes after the end of the phone call, Tao is already there. There is nothing to distract them this time, no drinks in their hands or in their systems, and Sehun makes sure to take a deep breath of the icy air before approaching. 

“Hey.” He says, plopping down next to Tao, a good amount of space between them. Tao makes no attempt to get closer. 

“Oh. Hey.” Tao replies. 

They’re silent for a moment, and Sehun tries his best not to vibrate in anxiety. Tao is no doubt organizing his thoughts, figuring out the best way to ask what he needs to, but Sehun can hardly keep still. 

Everything about this seems different than the two before it. Maybe it’s because Sehun is more prepared, or because he’s armed with the knowledge that perhaps they are both needing closure, or perhaps because he’s in love with someone else. 

The last one he tries not to think too hard about. 

“Did you ever love me?” Tao asks, and Sehun blinks in surprise. They’re jumping right into it, it seems.

“Yes.” Sehun says, as firmly as he can, because he didn’t think that this would be something still weighing on Tao’s mind. 

Tao looks at him out of the corner of his eye, and instead of seeing hate as he normally does, Sehun can see a hint of insecurity. “Really? It never really seemed like it.” Sehun thinks about what Tao had said at the party, how Sehun in high school was impossible to read or understand, and wonders just how long Tao had been tearing himself apart over this.

So he takes a moment before he responds, knowing that what he’s about to say is vitally important. “I loved you more than anything else in the world, at the time.” Sehun tells Tao. “I didn’t know how to show it, because I was– and am– a private person, but I spent hours talking about how much I loved you to people uninvolved in our situation. I was afraid to show it, because of my parents and my family, and that fear took hold in my public life, even when they weren’t there.” 

Tao nods slightly, no doubt thinking heavily. “You were afraid.” He replies, summarizing. The words sound muffled in Sehun’s ears. “You were afraid and anxious, even when you were alone. You didn’t know how to love, even though you felt it, and that resulted in miscommunication on both sides.” 

“Yeah.” Sehun says, nodding. It’s right, even if Tao is aiming everything back at him like he normally does, but it was the truth, so Sehun accepts it with a small smile. 

“Okay.” Tao looks more centered now, as though something vitally important from his past has finally been resolved. It has, in a way, if his question’s meaning is anything close to what Sehun’s question means to him. “Your turn.” 

Sehun breathes. 

“Why did you hate me?” He asks, remembering to keep it in past tense. “I know you had lists of things that you didn’t like about me, but they were all things that weren’t that important in the whole scheme of things.” Sehun had learned this later on, in university, as Luhan and Jongin and Junmyeon had taught him how to be okay with himself again, how to let himself breathe. “What made you really, truly, hate me?” 

Tao hums to himself. “Part of it was because I didn’t think you loved me the way I loved you.” He says first, quickly, and while Sehun takes a moment to remind himself that Tao actually loved him Tao takes the moment to think about the question more. 

“You were kinda perfect, y’know.” He says, as though it was something everyone knew. Sehun jerks out of his thoughts. 

“What?” He tries not to sound too surprised, but he knows Tao doesn’t fall for it. 

Tao smiles, and it’s slowly becoming a nice smile again. “You danced well, and were really hot, and everyone thought you were really cool. You were smart, too, even though you hardly studied, and it seemed as though everyone was your friend. You had that aura about you, the brooding mysterious mood, and everyone seemed to fall for it.” 

Sehun stares. He remembers a distinctly different high school experience than the one Tao is describing. His high school involves more anxiety and insecurity, thinking no one liked him, constantly trying to get better in dance and socially with everyone else. 

“But you couldn’t see it.” And oh. 

“You couldn’t see that you had the world in your hands.” Tao says, and he finally starts to sound a little bit more like he knows what he’s doing. “You had everything I wanted and yet you still thought so little of yourself. It was infuriating.” 

“I really didn’t know you thought that way.” Sehun manages.

Tao laughs. “Of course you didn’t. But I hated more than anything that someone so perfect was flaunting his perfection in everyone else’s faces, unable to see what everyone else saw. I thought it was a joke at first, that you were playing the shy and innocent game to garner more attraction, but no.” He laughs again, and something sinks in Sehun’s stomach. “You were genuinely that shy and innocent, which made it so much worse.” 

He emphasizes the last few words, air forcefully leaving his mouth, and Sehun thinks he understands Tao a little bit more.

“I’m not sure what to say.” Sehun says, quietly, because of all things, he really didn’t expect this.

Tao softens a bit, and it’s only a small bit, but it surprised Sehun that he’s able to see it. 

“That’s okay.” He says. “I talked to Kris, and Luhan, and your Junmyeon, and they all told me how wrong I was about you, how many assumptions I made that weren’t right at all.” 

“Junmyeon isn’t my anything.” Sehun says automatically, before actually registering what Tao said. “Wait. You talked to Junmyeon?” 

Tao smiles. It’s a nice smile. “A few days ago, yeah.” He says nothing about Sehun’s instinctive reaction. “I sought him out and asked about you. I forced the information out of him, if you were wondering, since he wasn’t very open to talking about you without you knowing.” 

“It’s fine. Thanks for telling me.” Sehun thinks about the last talk he had with Junmyeon, about people minding their own business and not getting involved, and a rush of affection filles Sehun up from his core. He chokes it down. 

“I’m sorry for what I said at the party, by the way.” And Tao sounds much softer here, more serious. “It was out of place, and Junmyeon definitely didn’t deserve those accusations about him.” 

Sehun shakes his head. “No, no.” He interrupts. “I’m sorry about the party altogether. It was a shitty move on my part.” 

“Then I’m sorry about the first time we met, pushing you into things you weren’t comfortable talking about.” Tao continues, earnest and sincere. “I should have been more sensitive to the situation.” 

Sehun wonders when the two of them became so mature, if it was something that happened in the past few weeks or something that has been in the works all those years they spent apart and contemplating their mistakes. It’s not something he particularly needs the answer to, but it’s a comforting thought all the same, that perhaps both of them have moved on more than they thought they did.

“Kris said we can be friends.” Tao says. 

Sehun smiles. “That’s what I told him, yeah.” He ignores how possessive that statement makes Kris sound and instead focuses on how it correlates with their current conversation. “But we said we’d be friends again back in high school, too.” 

Tao snorts. “We said we’d try and date again someday in high school too, but look at us now.” He nods at Sehun. “We’re both in love with other people and have no plans to change that.” 

Sehun thinks he might have plans to change that, if only to save himself from his suspicions-become-reality, but he quickly realizes that this isn’t the place to bring that up. 

“It’ll be hard, after everything we’ve been through.” Sehun says, unthinkingly. 

Tao hums in approval. “I’d like to try, though. For real.” 

“What do you mean?” Sehun asks, because last time he had tried. For real. 

“Last time I was influenced by the impression that you didn’t love me as much as I loved you, even though you did.” He says, shrugging. “I was also jealous of how perfect you were. But this time we can start again, without any of that.” 

Sehun thinks he understands what Tao is getting at. “This time we can be friends without me being influenced by adolescent love and devotion.” 

“Exactly.” Tao says, even if he looks a little bit sickened by Sehun’s statement. “It’s a chance to be friends, for real, without any fear of falling into whatever terrible mess we created last time. A chance to let go of the past.” 

Sehun likes that idea. Tao was, at one point, his best friend. It wouldn’t be bad to have that back, even if it’s been years since they last made civil conversation. 

Looking at Tao, at the condensation that escapes from their mouths when they breathe, in this moment, more than anything else, Sehun feels loved. 

When they make plans to see each other again, and catch up for real in one final attempt to try again, Sehun does not cry.

\---

“I heard you sorted things out with Tao.” Luhan says, crashing Sehun’s dorm, armed with bubble tea. Sehun might have an addiction, he admits it, but that’s okay, because Luhan is just feeding this addiction. 

“News travels fast.” He replies, not looking up from his book. Sehun needs to catch up on homework, and Luhan can make himself comfortable– he’s done so plenty of times before. 

Luhan puts the cups down, one next to Sehun’s hand and the other slightly farther away. Leaning over slightly, he closes Sehun’s book with nothing more than a soft thump, and turns Sehun’s face towards him with his cold and slightly wet hand. 

“I’m proud of you.” He says, one hundred percent serious, and Sehun resists the urge to blush and cry.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Sehun rolls his eyes, jerking his chin out of Luhan’s grip. Luhan’s not his father, no matter how much he may act like it at times, so it’s absolutely ridiculous for Sehun to feel like he’s done his family proud.

Luhan just smiles and sits down, crossing his legs on Sehun’s bed like Junmyeon did weeks before. Sehun tries not to make comparisons, but Junmyeon is Junmyeon and perhaps he’s been denying himself this realization for far too long. 

“I was afraid that you’d do the thing you always do.” Luhan tells him, which makes absolutely no sense whatsoever. 

Sehun turns to Luhan, unsure of where this conversation is heading. “What thing?” He asks, even if he’s not sure that he wants to know. 

Luhan smiles, but it’s a sad and pitying smile, and immediately every single one of Sehun’s nerves go on high alert. 

“Sometimes you do this thing where you tell different people little bits of yourself , so that at the end of the day you feel like everyone knows everything about you when in reality no one knows anything at all.” Luhan says softly, but surely.

Sehun blinks once, twice, because yeah that makes sense but also no, that doesn’t make sense at all. 

Except it does. Kind of. (Compartmentalizing, Chanyeol’s voice echoes in his ears.)

“I’ve known you for years, and because of that, I know that there are things you hide from me that you can never tell me” Luhan continues, either unaware or uncaring of Sehun’s emotional predicament. “You do the same thing to everyone else, too.” 

There is perhaps one person that Sehun would tell all his secrets to, but that person is someone Sehun can no longer tell anything to, and that in itself is confusing. At one point in time that person was Tao, but everything Tao had meant to Sehun is gone now, and the gaping hole left behind is oddly Junmyeon sized. 

“Is that a bad thing?” Sehun asks, because regardless of whether Luhan is Sehun’s (somehow) adopted father or not, his opinion matters. 

Luhan thinks for a moment, tilting his head to the side innocently. Both bubble teas sit on Sehun’s desk, untouched. 

“I don’t think so.” Luhan says, and Sehun breathes a sigh of relief. “I think it’s just a reminder of how scared you are of everything.” 

Sehun blinks again. “ _ Isn’t _ that a bad thing?” 

Luhan laughs. “Not necessarily.” He says, but offers no explanation. That’s fine. Sehun is used to Luhan making no sense whatsoever. 

He stands from Sehun’s bed, grabbing his cup from Sehun’s desk. The condensation leaves a water ring behind, and while normally Sehun would be angry, this is Luhan, who cannot be contained by mortal standards. Plus, he has better things to think about. 

“I really am proud of you.” He says. “But I really think you should do something about the Junmyeon situation.” 

Luhan stands in the middle of Sehun’s dorm room like a guardian angel, and Sehun resists the urge to throw something at him. 

“There is no Junmyeon situation.” 

“Exactly!” Luhan exclaims brightly, as though Sehun had just proved his point. “There’s no Junmyeon situation, and that’s the problem. You need to make one.” 

Sehun raises an eyebrow. “Make a Junmyeon situation?” It sounds crazy, and Sehun does not that it’s a good idea.

Luhan nods vigorously. “Yes. The two of you are in love, so what’s the problem?” 

Sehun stares for a moment before letting out a short laugh. He’s not sure how to tell Luhan that at this point, everything is the problem. He’s just recently managed to get his feelings about the Tao situation under control– he’s nowhere near capable of handling a Junmyeon situation.

“I’m not ready to date, and you know that.” He says. 

“Oh Sehun.” Luhan commands. Sehun can’t help but jerk into an upright sitting position. “You haven’t been ready to date since high school. Don’t you think it was about time you got over yourself?” 

Sehun wants to be offended, he really does, but he knows that Luhans right, and that Luhan wouldn’t be saying this if he wasn’t truly confident that Sehun is able to move on with his life and simply  _ be. _

“You’re proud of me?” Sehun asks, because he needs to confirm this once more. “Proud of how far I’ve gotten, how much I’ve managed to move on?” 

“Yes.” Luhan nods, and Sehun takes a deep breath. 

“Okay.” Okay. “I’ll create a Junmyeon situation.” 

Luhan offers last smile before he leaves, muttering a soft “good” under his breath. Sehun stands to watch Luhan pull open the door and exit, but does not move or reach out. 

Luhan is proud of him. Giggling like a teenager, Sehun dives for his bed and buries his head in his covers. 

If he concentrates, and maybe deludes himself a little, Sehun thinks he can smell someone who had sat there, talked with him for a while, and then left. 

Hint: it’s not Luhan. 

\---

Work doesn’t get any easier. Sehun thinks he might be taking this separation from Junmyeon harder than Junmyeon himself, because Jongin has taken to bringing the drinks directly to Junmyeon every day, and spends at least ten minutes standing in Junmyeon’s door, talking about one thing or another, Sehun just out of earshot. 

Sehun doesn’t know if he’s jealous or not. He knows that it’s perfectly within his ability to go to Junmyeon and make conversation, because it’s never hard to talk to Junmyeon, but he’s not quite sure he’s ready yet. He didn’t lie to Luhan, of course, but these things require time. 

It’s an excuse, and Sehun knows that, but he turns back to his computer, determined to at least get through this work day without falling into another crisis about the nonexistent Junmyeon situation. 

“When are you going to talk to Junmyeon about whatever happened between the two of you?” Jongin asks, and Sehun immediately gives up hope. If even Jongin who likes to keep to himself is asking questions, then Sehun knows for sure that all of this has gone too far.

“Have you been talking about me behind my back, Kim Jongin?” Sehun asks, only half joking. 

Jongin blinks at Sehun innocently. “Junmyeon likes to ask about you.” He says, as though it isn’t a statement that shakes the very core of Sehun’s determination. “He asks if you’re taking care of yourself, if you’re eating and sleeping and going to classes.” 

“And what do you tell him?” Sehun returns, with only a little bit of trepidation. 

Jongin smiles his innocent smile, and while it normally would soothe Sehun’s nerves immediately, this time, it does nothing to make him feel better. 

“That you’re not really eating or sleeping that well, and that you’ve skipped two classes so far this week.” It’s Wednesday. 

Sehun shoots upright in his chair. “You can’t tell him that!” He says, because the last thing he wants is for Junmyeon to know how much he’s struggling. It’s hard, harder than he thought it would be to stay away from Junmyeon. It’s weird to not have a shoulder to turn to in times of need, to have no one to call when Baekhyun is annoying him again, to not be able to reach out when he sees something he knows Junmyeon would like. 

“Maybe you should go to class, then.” Jongin says flippantly. “Or talk to him yourself.” 

Sehun blanches. “I can’t do that.” 

“Why not?” Jongin asks, tilting his head slightly. “It’s obvious that you’re the only one holding back. To me, it seems like he cares too much about you to pressure you, not the other way around.”

“You’re right, but that’s exactly the problem.” Sehun says, trailing off at the end of his sentence. He doesn’t know how continue from there, how to explain to Jongin everything that’s been happening. Jongin is someone Sehun met strictly  _ after _ the apocalypse had already ended. He had never known how to explain all of his high school experiences to Jongin, and to do so now seems dumb and petty. 

“That he cares too much?” Regardless of what Sehun is willing and not willing to tell Jongin, he seems determined to pry the information out of Sehun. Sehun’s not sure whether to be thankful or not that Jongin lacks tact in this area of his life. 

Sehun shrugs and looks away. “Maybe?” 

Jongin is silent for a while longer, but Sehun isn’t stupid enough to trick himself that this conversation is over. 

Sure enough, after a solid five minutes of the most awkward silence Sehun has experienced his entire life, Jongin speaks up again. 

“I don’t know what happened in high school, all the shit you aren’t telling me. I don’t need to know.” His voice is quiet and calming, but it only assists in shooting Sehun’s anxiety through the roof once more. “You just have to understand that this is no longer about you and someone who doesn’t matter anymore. This is about you and Junmyeon, who loves you. Junmyeon who you love.” 

Sehun bristles. “Are you telling me to fix things with him for his sake?” He’s getting distinct Yixing vibes from this whole conversation.

Jongin shakes his head slowly, and sighs. He sounds exasperated. “I’m telling you to fix things because you know you want to. Whatever happened was over, is in the past now. This is this present, and you deserve to let yourself be happy.” 

“I am happy.” Sehun says, as quick as he can, because he  _ is. _ He’s happy now, the way he wasn’t before.

“Of course.” Jongin says, and manages to not sound a single bit sarcastic. “But don’t you ever look at Junmyeon and think ‘hey, perhaps I can be  _ happier?’ _ ”?

Jongin has a far away look on his face, as though he’s thinking about something and someone who has nothing to do with Sehun and Junmyeon at all. It’s disgusting, and Jongin is right, even if Sehun doesn’t want him to be, because there’s no denying the fact that sometimes Sehun looks at Junmyeon and sees perfection and imagines what it would be like if that perfection was his. 

“You’re ridiculous.” Sehun says, and laughs, changing the subject. “Just ask him out already.” 

Jongin laughs, too, and it’s stupid. “After I graduate.” He says shyly, blushing a little, and Sehun laughs again, because Jongin and his crush are insufferably cute. 

\---

The one thing Oh Sehun will never tell anybody, ever, is that he’s absolutely terrified of falling in love again. 

He remembers how it was with Tao, how out of control everything felt, how he would do anything and everything to stay in love. It was more of a vice than a virtue, the way he looked at Tao and had felt nothing but pure devotion. He’s afraid that one day he’ll look at Junmyeon and see his perfection the way he saw Tao’s endless beauty and feel that same devotion, that same desire to hold on and to never let go. 

Sehun is afraid of watching Junmyeon’s nice smile turn into a terrible one, of his jokes and kind words turning into arrows and sharp barbs. It happened with Tao, slowly, but it had happened all the same. Their adolescent love had turned to poison and had infested Sehun’s life, nothing left unscathed. 

(A year later, a year after they broke up, in their final year of high school, Sehun remembers seeing Tao one last time, at the final dance showcase. He remembers finding Tao in a sea of other performers and pulling him to the side. Sehun had apologized then, he’s not sure for what, maybe for everything, but after a while his apologies had turned into lungs that couldn’t breathe and hands that felt nothing but a buzz. His nameless boyfriend at the time had grabbed him then, and tried to rub the feeling back into his fingers, but Tao had remained stoic and silent in front of them. 

_ Does it look like I’m angry? _ He had asked Sehun then. Sehun had not replied, tears pouring down his face, throat clogged with mucus.)

More than anything, Sehun is afraid of gasping breath after breath and losing feeling in his fingertips. He’s afraid that one day, Sehun will look at Junmyeon, and Junmyeon will look back and ask  _ does I look like I’m angry? _ and Sehun will have no choice but to say  _ yes. _

Sehun is afraid. 

(Tao was often angry at Sehun, for one reason or another. Sometimes it would be a joke between friends that went too far, only to be brought back by wide eyes and a twisted smile.  _ Why would you ever say something like that? _ Tao would ask, and Sehun would have no choice but to apologize.)

Sehun is afraid of not being enough, of never being enough, of doing and saying all the wrong things. He’s afraid that one day, it’ll be one mistake too far, and Junmyeon will turn from the angel he is into something far, far worse than Tao could ever be.

(But Junmyeon is perfect, and Sehun thinks that maybe, just maybe, he wouldn’t mind making the same mistakes again if it was for him.)

\---

The next day, at work, Sehun brings the coffee directly to Junmyeon’s office. He does his best to ignore Jongin’s wide eyes, watching him leave the room instead of being focused on the computer screen in front of him. It is a spectacle, he supposes, especially since Jongin seems oddly invested in the outcome.

“I’m ready to talk.” He says to the top of Junmyeon’s bent head, because he’s afraid but he’s also done with running away from his problems. Junmyeon looks up from his desk, obviously surprised, but nods for Sehun to enter the room. 

“I didn’t think you’d come and talk to me, if I’m being honest.” While Junmyeon starts organizing his papers, putting them to the side and closing his laptop, Sehun seats himself in a chair facing Junmyeon’s desk and tries not to blush at his words. They’re true, no matter how untrue Sehun wishes they were.

“I didn’t think so either.” He replies, and busies himself with setting the cup on Junmyeon’s now cleared desk. Sehun takes this time to take a deep breath, to figure out what he’s going to say next. Explain, perhaps, why he hadn’t come to Junmyeon earlier, or maybe just apologize. 

“You weren’t there when I woke up the next morning.” Is what comes out of Sehun’s mouth instead, and it takes every bone in Sehun’s body to stop himself from jolting out of his chair and running out of the room in embarrassment. It’s not the best way to start a conversation, Sehun knows that, but Junmyeon doesn’t seem to mind.

Instead, he smiles a smile that seems more self pitying than anything. “You know that I’m in love with you.” Junmyeon says, like it’s not a question and instead a fact. Sehun can do nothing but nod and this so called revelation, and lower his head to stare at his shoes. 

“I don’t expect anything from you.” Junmyeon continues. He sounds so unbearably honest that Sehun feels the ache in his own lungs, air pressing against his ribs, trying but unable to escape. “I just needed some time to get away, to sort out how to make sure my feelings for you wouldn’t affect our friendship.” 

Sehun’s head shoots back up at that. “You thought I would reject you?” 

Junmyeon’s brows squeeze together in confusion, and it’s adorable. “Isn’t that what you did?” He asks, once again like it’s completely obvious, and Sehun’s heart sinks. It’s not what he meant to do, the day he asked Junmyeon to leave, but he doesn’t know how to describe how incredibly overwhelmed he was in that single moment, how close he was to not being able to breathe or feel his hands, just like it was four years ago.

“I understand you’re probably not ready to date.” Junmyeon tells him, still serious, and Sehun wishes he could offer something more than another slight nod. Junmyeon deserves better than this, he thinks, but Sehun knows better than anyone what it’s like to love someone you should not love.

“If I could date anyone, it would probably be you.” Sehun says, unthinkingly, because Junmyeon is perfect. Once again, he doesn’t know if he’s trying to explain himself or to apologize, but Junmyeon holds a hand up to stop him from talking. Sehun thinks he might understand. 

“Maybe someday in the future, then.” Junmyeon says kindly, and maybe he doesn’t understand. Not really.

Sehun’s throat burns. “You deserve better than this.” His thoughts refuse to stay in his head, and instead climb out of his throat in a wave of fire and lava. Junmyeon shouldn’t wait, shouldn’t restrict himself to someone who took five years to solve a personal issue that could have been solved in a month. 

(Most importantly, Sehun thinks that Junmyeon deserves someone who isn’t afraid.)

Junmyeon laughs. “You say that now, but wait until you find out my sordid dating history.” 

“Can is be worse than mine?” Sehun asks rhetorically, and stares closely at Junmyeon’s face. He wants to memorize his smile, the way he shows all his teeth, the squinting of his eyes. It’s a beautiful smile, and Sehun hopes he never forgets that, hopes he never gets to the point where he’s forced to forget that.

“You’re beautiful. Did you know that?” Junmyeon says, asks, suddenly. Sehun refuses to blush, and instead continues to stare at Junmyeon, this time with as much incredulity as he can muster. 

“Do I want to know what brought this on?” He asks. 

Junmyeon shrugs. “Since you know that I love you, there’s no real reason for me to hold back on compliments, is there?” He smiles sheepishly. “We can be friends that compliment each other, right?”

Sehun stares for a moment longer. Junmyeon never stops being just as beautiful as he was the first time Sehun saw him. “I suppose so.” He says, and continues on before he can lose that last bit of courage. “I think I might love you too.” 

It’s Junmyeon’s turn to stare this time, and Sehun takes pleasure in silencing the chatterbox that is his boss. 

“That doesn’t mean I’m ready to date.” Sehun says, quickly, because he can practically see the cogs turning in Junmyeon’s brain. “It just means that I’m still kinda hung up on my ex from five years ago but also think you’re kind of perfect.” Is that a good explanation? Sehun thinks that maybe he spent too long staring into Junmyeon’s beautiful eyes, that they’ve started to cloud his brain and prevent him from thinking properly.

Junmyeon nods, though, as though this actually makes sense, but instead of hating him and all his affection like he normally would, Sehun feels nothing but relief. It’s nice having someone that understands him, even when he’s not understandable. 

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Junmyeon says, and it does not feel like an ending. 

It feels like a beginning.

“Someday.” Junmyeon says– demands, almost, when Sehun stands from his chair. They both have work to get back to, after all. 

Sehun stops in his tracks. It would be downright cruel to give Junmyeon hope for something that may never happen. But Junmyeon is watching him with warm eyes, the same warmth that Kris had looked at Tao with, and maybe even the same warmth with which Sehun and Tao had looked at each other in high school. He doesn't look expectant, not by any means, but it’s love all the same. 

Sehun thinks of somedays, of the someday that never came to be with Tao, of the someday he had always been afraid to promise himself. 

Maybe it’s time he got over himself, just like Luhan said. 

“Yeah.” Sehun croaks out. “Someday.” Someday, when Sehun is no longer afraid.

The word is sweet on his lips. 

Sehun leaves the room, and does not cry. 

\---

Kris hosts one last get together before everyone heads back to their respective hometowns for the winter. Sehun is going to Jongin’s house once the break starts, as he has for the past two years, and Junmyeon is going to head back and visit his own family while Sehun is gone. 

They’ve reached a truce, of sorts. It had taken a few more conversations, a few more late night confessions, but they’re decided to remain friends for now. Friends that cuddle and tell each other secrets and sometimes spend nights at each other’s apartments, but friends all the same.

(Sehun learns about Junmyeon’s terrible dating history, how he flitted from girl to girl, no one able to hold his attention, never able to stay committed– mostly because he didn't like girls. At the time, it was mortifying for Junmyeon. Years later, Sehun manages to get a good laugh out of it.) 

The people at Kris’ strange get together are the same ones that were there when Sehun saw Tao for the second time. Twelve people squeezing into the living room of Kris’ apartment is just as cramped as it was the first time, but Sehun thinks it’s kinda poetic. The people that started this strange journey of reunion and healing are the same people to see it to its end, even if they don’t know it. 

Even Yixing is there. He’s following the most recent group he had choreographed for, and is just so happens that they’re in the area right when they need to be. Sehun’s not sure how much of that is fate and how much of that is careful and meticulous planning, but he enjoys Yixing’s company all the same. He really is a great guy, once he figures out the best way to deal with people, and both Luhan and Tao are ecstatic to see him again, so Sehun refuses to let himself be bothered. 

He makes sure to sit next to Junmyeon again, though. Just to be safe. 

“So when does this party start?” Luhan asks, already tucked under Minseok’s (very) muscular arm. Sehun laughs, and digs his fingers into the meat of Junmyeon’s thigh. Junmyeon slaps his shoulder in retaliation.

Kris sighs heavily, but Sehun know’s he means it jokingly. Mostly. 

“Now, I guess.” He says, and pulls a decent sized box out from behind his back. It’s wrapped beautifully, edges crisp with a shiny blue wrapping paper, topped with a graceful gold bow. 

Sehun’s not sure whose idea it was to do a secret santa, but seeing as they’re either a, broke university students or b, recently employed graduates, the price maximum is extremely low. Sehun’s just glad that he got someone he knows well, rather than someone he would only end up disappointing. 

“Here. Kyungsoo.” Kris says, and thrusts the box out towards Kyungsoo. As Kyungsoo reaches out to grab it, Chanyeol gently lifts his arm from where it was wrapped tightly around his shoulders and places his other arm around Jongin’s shoulders instead. Sehun wonders what he’s trying to inspire by sitting between the two of them, before deciding that he really doesn’t want to know. 

Kyungsoo undoes the wrapping carefully, peeling the tape apart piece by piece, and it’s incredibly slow. Sehun wishes he would hurry up, but also knows better than to rush him. 

When Kyungsoo finally manages to take all the wrapping paper off the box, folding it neatly and placing it in Chanyeol’s lap, he stares hesitatingly at the gift left in his hands. 

“A penguin?” He asks, and opens the box to take the soft toy out. 

“Squeeze it.” Kris encourages, and Tao buries his face in Kris’ arm, as though he’s trying not to laugh. Kris must have told him what the gift was beforehand. Sehun quickly eyes the exits, because although this may be Kris’ house, an angry Kyungsoo is unstoppable even by law. 

Kyungsoo squeezes the stomach of the fuzzy toy, though, and does not say a word. Instead, the penguin lets out the smallest squeal Sehun has ever heard, the kind of noise that can only be produced by a baby bird. Tao shakes from where he’s stuck his face into his boyfriend, gasping for air, and both Chanyeol and Baekhyun join him in laughter, bodies folding over. As though completely unaware of the commotion around him, Kyungsoo remains stoic as he stares at the doll and squeezes it for a second time. 

This time, along with almost everyone else, neither Sehun nor Junmyeon can resist the urge to laugh. Sehun instinctively reaches for Junmyeon, and their hands meet somewhere in the middle, and Sehun has never felt more at home when Junmyeon giggles against the sensitive skin of Sehun’s neck. 

“It’s cute.” Jongin says, the only person not laughing. He can’t resist smiling, though, and reaches around Chanyeol’s heaving body to take the toy from Kyungsoo. “Kinda looks like you.” 

Kyungsoo responds by grabbing the gift bag he had put behind his back and pushing it across the circle to Minseok. The game continues, everyone finally managing to get themselves under control. The stuffed penguin remains in Jongin’s lap, though, his hands wrapped around it protectively, and Sehun reminds himself to make a joke later about the penguin Jongin would rather have sitting in his lap.  

To Sehun’s surprise, when it comes to Tao’s turn, he pushes his gift bag towards Sehun with a smile. Similar to Sehun’s truce with Junmyeon, he and Tao had agreed to settle with friendship, but had taken to avoid talking about their past altogether. University friends sounds much better than high school sweethearts turned bittersweet, in Sehun’s opinion, and he likes to think that Tao feels the same way. Moving on and getting over it is something both of them have gotten close to doing, and Sehun can hardly feel anything in his stomach anymore when he sees Tao and Kris being gross together.

“For me?” Sehun asks, pretending to be shocked but reaching for the bag anyways. Tao laughs. 

Inside is an adorable keychain, a rubber dog biting its own tail. It’s exactly something Sehun would put on his keyring, or on his backpack, so he reaches for his lanyard and does exactly that. It’s hard to ignore the smile Tao gives him, the nice one, and Sehun cannot help but to smile back. Kris smiles too, but it’s his warm smile, the one he saves for Tao, and the two of them are so sweetly domestic that it nearly gives Sehun a toothache.

“I love it.” Sehun tells Tao, even though it’s obvious. 

Tao nods. “You’ve always been a dog person.” He says, and there’s hints of their past in that sentence, wrapped up in all the things they haven’t talked about yet (and may never talk about), but the mood is light and easy. It’s a joke, and not an accusation, so Sehun laughs. 

(There is a sense of camaraderie between them now, something that refuses to be broken. A link created by surviving the apocalypse that was their high school years that has now formed some untouchable bond.)

Sehun’s gift is for none other than Junmyeon, perhaps the person in the circle he knows best, and the smile that appears on Junmyeon’s face when Sehun plops his gift bag in his lap is gorgeous.

“Is this why you refused to tell me about your secret santa?” Junmyeon asks, running his fingers through the colored tissue paper. 

Sehun snorts “There’s a reason why it’s called a secret.” He side eyes Tao and Kris, who can do nothing but laugh along. 

But when Junmyeon lifts his actual gift from its wrapping, the room is immediately silenced. Sehun can hear the individual breaths each person in the room makes, and he resists the urge to burst into laughter with surprising strength. 

“What the hell are those?” Jongdae asks, mouth open wide in shock. Noises of agreement rise up from other members of the circle. 

“Toe socks!” Junmyeon exclaims brightly, and turns to Sehun, all squinty eyes and teeth. “How’d you know I’ve always wanted a pair?” 

Sehun can do nothing but dissolve into laughter. “I just seemed like something you would want.” He says between gasps. Junmyeon turns back to his socks, quite happy. Sehun thinks he hears a mournful whine from Tao, no doubt crying on the inside (and outside) at Junmyeon’s terrible fashion sense. 

“They seem useful, I guess.” Baekhyun offers, sounding only a little bit horrified. “You can wear sandals with them or something, right?” 

Junmyeon is still smiling, and Sehun finds himself unable to breathe for more than one reason. “That’s exactly right.” Junmyeon tells Baekhyun, proud. Baekhyun sighs to himself and leans into Kyungsoo’s arm as Junmyeon immediately removes the socks he’s wearing at the moment and replaces them with the new socks. Watching Junmyeon’s toes wiggle is extraordinarily creepy, but it’s worth the smile that refuses to die down. 

“Shall we continue?” Junmyeon asks, still bright as he pulls his own gift from behind his back. At the sound of resonating assent, the game continues. 

Some time later, perhaps, when the gift giving has nearly reached its end, Junmyeon reaches over and squeezes Sehun’s thigh, just like he always does. 

“Thank you for thinking of me.” He says quietly, so no one else can hear. 

“That’s the point of the game.” Sehun whispers back, but covers Junmyeon’s hand in his anyways. 

It’s warm to the touch, and Sehun smiles. 

**Author's Note:**

> special thanks to: my irl luhan who keeps me sane but i hope never reads this, my irl junmyeon who i love dearly and miss greatly, my irl tao who helped me find myself in the most formative periods of my life, and finally, to my irl sehun, because self love is important.
> 
> come scream with me about literally anything besides this fic  
> [tumblr](http://www.highlightjunhui.tumblr.com) [twitter](http://www.twitter.com/jwptmf)


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